Echoes Of The Past
by Jackdawess
Summary: Sequel to 'Here and There'. All was normal until it wasn't. H & G find themselves on another journey in 2007 and in the process come face to face with Anne Lister. F/F A bit of drama, mystery, angst, fun, fluff, a tiny dash of smut and history. HG/GW & AL
1. Chapter 1 Caution

**Echoes Of The Past**

**A/N: December 2019 This is a sequel to "Here and There". It's not absolutely necessary to have read that story as there's just enough references in this one to link the two and not get _too_ lost, but obviously if you've read the other one the references will make much more sense.**

**The timeline: "Here and There" ended in 2002, this sequel starts in 2007 and follows on.**

**This story is complete and finished and will be posted as and when I can. It is 18 chapters long.**

**Content rating: It's f/f. There's not as much detailed sex as "Here and There" but there's still quite a bit there. I've rated it 'M' for the sex in it and bad language and mature themes. So to make sure I don't offend the people that spend their life going around trying to find something to be offended about, I'll stick to the 'M' rating. ****And I still write with humour, without it being a comedy and there's also a proper story(or attempt at it) going on too. :) There is drama, angst, fluff, history and several other genres.**

**As I have named a historical character, Anne Lister(Gentleman Jack), in the title and filters so people can find the story, it's sadly not going to be much of a surprise to see her here, although she doesn't appear for a few chapters...patience and all that, as it has a proper set-up. However, it allows me to explain why this story exists. I wrote most of the structure of this story only a couple of years after Here and There, in 2013-ish. It came to me after placing the villages of Little and Great Hangleton near Halifax, and as one of my chapter A/Ns from that story explained it was inspired by the scenery/atmosphere used in the BBC movie "The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister". But, other than people who had seen that film and/or were avid readers of the couple of books from the diaries, I wasn't sure many people would have known/understood the Lister-world and the people in it. So thanks to the BBC again(and HBO), we got "Gentleman Jack" on our screens this year, with just the right amount of humour, and then I got some free time and decided to revisit and tweak this sequel story and put it into a readable and more digestible format.**

**I've read books on Anne Lister for years and revisit her diaries now and again. I taught myself her code, and don't have too much trouble with her bad handwriting(in the later diaries in particular), so spend some free time decoding and reading her diary online, mostly the bits that haven't yet been published or mentioned, of which I include a few tiny tidbits. Reading terrible old hand writing is something I've done for years in family/military history research.**

**The placement of Anne's appearance is chosen from the moment in the diaries where I could actually get away with using it. And that took a little while to settle on the time frame and the timing itself to be at least marginally accurate. **

**Another reason I've waited so long to actually polish up this story to share is that, it's a very self-indulgent, fluffy, ramble, with just a tiny dose of smut. I've always written for my own entertainment in a lot of 'thinking-out-loud' projects. I always have my head in history, be it books, documents and the people I'm researching, and very often think of going back in time to meet someone. Those thoughts sometimes drift to random people, real or fictional, meeting with others in history, and so this story happened.**

**'Here and There' proved to be something of a troll magnet, so if trolls get too busy on this one I'll simply delete all guest reviews unread. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except the ones I invented. Potterverse ones are all JKR's. I'm just borrowing them to take them for a spin. Anne Lister is Anne Lister. :)**

**And it goes without saying, that all typos, inaccuracies, inconsistencies, plot holes and general brain farts are all my own work. :)**

Chapter 1 "Caution"

A couple weeks into the new school year 2007...

"It is always to the caster's advantage to first cast a protection spell or shield charm before then assessing the situation. If attacked, then a reflex counter curse should still always be disabling, but not fatal and performed with caution."

_Tick. Solid understanding and awareness._

"...the situation can be different, but every witch or wizard must always think quickly and use caution."

_Tick. Awareness of situation._

Hermione looked at her watch, then at the clock in the room, both said 6.05pm. She was sat in the classroom at Hogwarts where she taught Defence Against The Dark arts. She was marking 7th Year homework and about twenty minutes away from finishing for the day.

She had set her students an unexpectedly basic task, but was hoping to learn more about their personalities and in something as easy as a First Year's basic short essay revealed a lot about the direction a student might take or be tempted to take. It had been a method devised by the Ministry to try and catch those students that might be tempted to turn dark, but was essentially a small test in the student's ability to do the basic things and what came from instinct and initiative. It had been assumed that most dark witches and wizards in history, only truly turned from their 6th and 7th years at Hogwarts. They hadn't caught any new would-be Voldermorts in waiting, but things were being watched carefully these days. It was a simple, harmless task and if it helped to make everyone safer then it was worth the rather boring lessons it presented. There were no grades to sort out, purely an acknowledgement that the student had understood the lesson, or at least the subject set for the homework.

"...those of not entirely human blood can still be strong in magic and be misunderstood, or thought to be more dangerous even when they are not. Caution should always be used when facing anyone from any race, species or level of magic."

_Tick. Thoughtful and thorough._

One thing Hermione was regretting deeply now was her use of the word 'caution' as her 'watch word' because every single assignment she was marking that evening, had the word 'caution' in it or emphasized multiple times. And there that blasted word was again, in the next parchment she began to mark. She was pleased that her students were actually listening, but it made things tedious sometimes.

"Caution should always be taken when returning curses at an attacker. Even if the opponent is a big brute that ought to be taught a lesson, caution should always be used, however much you're itching to end them. Which would be breaking the law and no one wants magical handcuffs and an end to the access of chocolate frogs."

This particular essay made Hermione laugh out loud. _Who wrote this, then?_ She looked to the writer's name: Katy Pole. A member of Hufflepuff and a very talented student. She gave a half smile before marking. _Tick. Understanding of subject if rather lacking in conventional approach, but excellent inventiveness in description!_

The Hermione attending school all those years ago would have been horrified at someone handing that over as homework, but life had taught her many things and she had a much better sense of humour now.

"Professor?"

Hermione looked up from the nearly completed pile of marked parchments. Just inside the doorway a fairly tall, thin student with dark auburn hair, tied back neatly, stood waiting expectantly.

"What can I do for you, Jane?

"Professor McGonagall asked me to deliver this parcel that arrived for you and...err...I forgot to hand my parchment into you this morning, and then I got nearly frogmarched down to the quidditch pitch to train, ready for the match on Sunday, and I've only now had a chance to get it from my dorm. Would you still accept me handing it in now, Professor?" She placed the parcel on Hermione's desk, while holding her parchment homework.

Jane Howard was one of Hermione's best students and had been in one of the first lessons she had taken, and she saw a lot of herself in her. She knew her student always had a very busy workload and how much quidditch occupied the girl's time and she also knew that this was one of a few students with honesty; that she had indeed completed the assignments and was not trying to bluff and lie her way out of a detention.

"Well, I'd be fine with that, but because you've missed two these past couple of weeks already, I'm supposed to give you a detention." explained Hermione. Professor McGonagall had learned of Jane's sometimes questionable missing of deadlines over the past couple of years, but because she was a Gryffindor the Headmistress had stressed that they must not show favourtism and give the same penalty as to any other less able student.

"I thought it might be the case," Jane almost sighed. "When will it be? Not tomorrow or Sunday, will it?" she asked nervously.

"Hmm, we need you out there on the pitch," said Hermione smiling. "So, we'll make it Sunday evening. Even if you win, I can't be accused of letting you off the hook. We did that a time or two last year, if I remember."

A relief swept over Jane's features. "Thanks, Professor. I...I never like to let you down, nor any of the teachers, but I seem to be stretched in all directions and never have time for everything this term. It's not like I dawdle around distracted...I don't have time to be distracted."

"You still have a busy schedule, this year? Do you have your timetable with you?" Jane nodded. "Let me have a look."

Jane brought the timetable to Hermione's desk. Immediately the brunette could see that the student in front of her was hardly having any time to visit the lavatory or have a proper lunch break, let alone get homework in on time for everything, every week.

"My goodness, you have a very full week."

"I...I suppose I could give up quidditch...I'm sure we could find another chaser."

"Absolutely not!" said Hermione. "You need to have time to let off steam and at the moment that's the only thing you're able to use."

"I'm just a little tired that my only true free time is now spent in detention or catching up on something I missed by a few minutes, hardly having time to get from one lesson to the next. It's much worse than last year."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Did you have the same trouble, Professor? When you were a student? I seem to remember reading how many subjects you took for your OWLS and NEWTS."

"I definitely had too many subjects, I dropped a couple."

"I really can't do _that_. I like all the subjects and don't want to let my...let people down."

"Your parents?"

Jane reluctantly nodded. "They've risked a lot letting me continue to follow this path, I owe it to them to be as good as I can be. Was it similar for you, Professor?"

Jane, like Hermione, was muggle born, but Jane's parents were more pushy about her truly exceeding at the top, to make up for the rather wild direction their daughter was taking in accepting her magical abilities. To the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts it was an obvious case of Jane having to prove herself the whole time, and perhaps even prove her worth as a daughter. It had never been an easy thing to observe and nothing had worked in lightening the Howards' attitude.

"I never felt pressure from my parents," said Hermione honestly. "But I put pressure on myself, that's for sure." She looked over the timetable again. "Let me make a copy of this and talk to Professor McGonagall and see if we can tweak your timetable a little." She hovered her wand over the timetable and then waved it over a clean sheet of parchment to achieve the copy.

"Really?"

"Of course! I'm supposed to be impartial, but a Gryffindor always helps another Gryffindor, especially if it means keeping one of our best players available for the quidditch team." Hermione smiled. "I'll get back to you Sunday evening for your detention. 6pm sharp please. Only an extended game will move the time back."

"Will you be at the match on Sunday, Professor?"

"I'll try to be."

"You'll be at Holyhead tomorrow!"

"Will I?"

"Oh, sorry," Jane blushed. "It's just the Harpies are at home and I know you'll have to miss a match or two to help with one of the Hogsmeade trips again this term. Sorry, Professor, it's none of my...well, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," said Hermione evenly. "I'm just surprised when people still take an interest in my movements. But, yes, I will be going to the match tomorrow and yes, I'll be fine to watch Gryffindor on Sunday, before your detention."

"Thanks, Professor."

"No problem. Now, you'll miss dinner in the Great Hall if you don't get a move on."

Jane loitered near the door. "You're not coming to the Great Hall tonight?"

"Not tonight."

"Of course, you don't. Oh, Fridays before matches, you don't go home normally either, but you..."

"Thank you Jane, see you Sunday." Hermione smiled, then looked back down at the last essays, including Jane's and let her student know that it was time to leave.

Jane Howard, sometimes with a couple of other top students, often stopped back after lessons for an extra couple of minutes, usually to ask something from the lesson or a tangent off from it. Hermione recognized curiosity and aptitude for the subject and was happy to answer questions in an honest and truthful way, even when it often broached some parts of the fighting from the Battle of Hogwarts and situations leading up to the Battle. Everyone knew what Hermione and Ginny had done and had risked, in a bid to help Harry face Voldermort and finish the Dark Lord once and for all, and all were curious about the details of their tasks and the spells used.

At one or two careers events over the last couple of years, Harry and Ron had been to Hogwarts to give information on the type of careers at the Ministry. Hermione had told them about at least half a dozen students she thought were especially gifted and might be good auror material. Jane Howard was one such name on that list.

As she had promised herself all those years ago, she wondered how Remus Lupin would have approached trying to mentor her best students, and decided to take a relaxed, friendly approach with no pressure and to let the students decide for themselves. It was another reason she was happy to talk with Jane, and do anything to offer the girl a more relaxed choice than the fear of letting down her parents, while in the process making sure she knew what she needed to in order to pursue what her potential could achieve.

Hermione marked the last essay on her desk; yet another use of the word 'caution' but adequate for the assignment. She put down her quill, shuffled the essays into a neat pile and placed them into an archive box, and then locked them in the teacher's cupboard at the front of the classroom, near to the stairs to her private rooms, using a complicated spell so that no student could break in and remedy a bad piece of work to get better marks. The last two whom had tried to break in, for the fun of it, were in the hospital wing for a week, one with concussion, resulting from her shielding charms, which she sometimes changed to keep things more secure. She gave the classroom a quick glance and picked up her parcel, before walking up the steps to her private rooms, shutting and locking the door behind her.

She quickly changed and then went to the small table and chairs in her outer room, which she thought of as a presence chamber, and discovered that the house elves had delivered her dinner. She unwrapped her parcel between mouthfuls and was delighted to find the book of old maps and boundaries she had ordered from London. She looked forward to flicking through it properly later.

Like most Friday evenings during term time, she was missing Ginny. It was a time that also mirrored the quidditch season and that meant no Friday or Saturday nights together while her wife prepared for and debriefed her matches.

At that moment she looked to her left hand and felt her wedding ring on her ring finger, smiling as she turned it. She quickly looked at her watch and saw it was after 7pm and walked through to her bedroom. She only used the room on Fridays and some Saturday nights, or when she was needed for other duties at Hogwarts rather than going home to Godric's Hollow. This school year she had started a new routine of staying at Hogwarts on a Friday, regardless of her duties.

Thumping her backside down to sit on the edge of the bed she opened her bedside cabinet drawer and brought out a mobile phone. She had persuaded the staff and importantly Minerva McGonagall, after much debate, that a link to the muggle world may be a lifesaver some day, and also that it would help her keep in contact with her parents and Ginny. So a mobile phone mast was finally fitted to the top of the astronomy tower only this past summer and seemed to give a very good signal and another reason Hermione decided to stay in her room at Hogwarts on Friday. Of course, being a witch, she never had any trouble with low battery power, always having a way to recharge her phone in a matter of seconds.

Although, knowing Ginny was at the Harpies' team house, phone calls were only allowed before 9pm and Hermione had trained Ginny in the art of phone calls fairly early into their relationship. Hermione pressed the speed dial button for Ginny.

"Hi gorgeous!" answered Ginny.

Hermione suppressed a laugh, paused and then mimicked her Headmistress's. voice "I hardly think that's anyway to address your former Professor, Ms Weasley?!"

There was a pause, followed by Ginny bursting out laughing. "Nice try, Hermione!"

Laughing too Hermione said, "Ahh, but you had to think for a moment!?"

"Well, only McGonagall and the Harpie's team owner calls me Ms Weasley. It was a momentary reaction of _'what have I done now?' _followed quickly by knowing it was you, especially as it was your name that flashed up on my screen."

"How's your day been?" asked Hermione.

"It was pretty boring, until our new beater Georgie hit a bludger at me, while we were on the same side in practice!"

"Deliberately?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well, did you say..."

"No, I never said anything!" said Ginny defensively. "At least I don't think I said anything?!"

"Does she still follow you around and eat at your table for lunch?"

"Yes, but I think that's just because she thinks she knows me best, because of all that Voldemort business and so I was technically the only person she knew when she arrived at the team."

"She has a crush on you!"

"No. She hit a bludger at me...didn't you hear me the first time?"

"Ginny, she has a crush on you," Hermione explained, amused. "From all you've told me, since she arrived at pre-season training, it's a crush."

"Oh crap!"

"Well it's completely understandable, because you're stunningly attractive, talented and famous, with a 'love life' littered with other famous people."

"Littered? People? There's only been you and Harry, but he doesn't really count as we did nothing more than snogging...point is, it's not like I've been dating everything with a heartbeat!"

"So, what did you say, or _do,_ before she hit a bludger at you?" Hermione asked still amused.

"I don't know." Ginny thought hard. "Ahhh...oh!"

"Okay, what is it?"

"It might be...," sighed Ginny. "Before it happened, I was flying near to Gabrielle, our seeker, and as she was going to go after the snitch I held her from behind. It's quite common training to get seekers to fly onwards even if held, it builds up strength and balance, as well as concentration. She's been here nearly as long as me and we always have a laugh. And she kept asking me if I was getting a good feel in...because my hands were near her boobs."

"Right," Hermione let out a resigned breath, but continued to be entertained.

"I then said: _'At least I knew a good place to grab onto in case of emergencies'_...and we were bantering at each other. Then it got really smutty and suggestive and we were laughing. I said that _'Hermione's'_ were the only ones I wanted in an emergency."

"Green-eyed monster," sighed Hermione, rolling her eyes, even though her partner couldn't see that reaction.

"Err, sorry Hermione."

"What about?"

"Fooling around like that."

"Ginny! I know Gabrielle, I know what she's like and I also know she's very into her boyfriend!"

"I just wanted you to know."

"You just have, and there's nothing to be sorry for," said Hermione. "But, I can see why someone with a crush would be a bit distraught, that the person they adore wasn't feeling-_them_-up and also wasn't the one named as your sole object of affection."

"What the hell can I do about _that_?" Ginny asked, sounding a little tired.

"Just act normal around her. She has the crush, _she_ has the problem. Don't talk about the bludger incident to draw attention to the situation and hopefully her crush will wear off quickly."

"Women!" Ginny said in a throwaway manner. "So how's your day been?"

"Boring. I just marked at least twenty parchments on the caution of replying to an attacking curse. And of course every single one used the word 'caution' sometimes multiple times."

Ginny laughed. "Even your teacher's pets?"

"They're not teacher's pets!" Hermione stated. "I suppose, they sort of are, but it's well known that the Ministry are interested in them, as potential auror candidates. Anyone that wants to aim for that can ask for extra help too."

"You can go to the match tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. I then have a much less skilful match to watch on Sunday at Hogwarts."

"You could make sure the best players lean towards the Harpies."

"I'm very subtle," Hermione laughed.

"I'll see you Sunday night, won't I?" Ginny asked.

"Of course. I have one detention in the early evening, then I'm out of there and home to you."

"What was the crime?"

"Only Jane Howard not having time to hand in her homework, _again_."

"She's in your teacher's pet group, isn't she?"

"Yes. But because she is just under a lot of pressure and plays quidditch very well, it will purely be a formality of her turning up. I'll chat to her for half an hour, then she can go, and so can I."

"I can't wait to see you Sunday," said Ginny wistfully.

"I know, love. I'm missing you so much. I don't like being in this bed by myself, it feels a bit like a nun's cell."

"Aww, it won't be long."

"I suppose I'd better hang up now and let you get back to 'team activities'," Hermione said in a funny voice.

"Hey, you're the only one I really want any 'activity' with!"

"I know," laughed Hermione. "Anyway, good luck for tomorrow."

"I love you Hermione."

"I love you too. Night"

"Night."

As she ended the call Hermione's shoulders slumped. A few years on and whenever she had been talking on the phone and she and Ginny were apart, she did that, or her shoulders acted on their own in missing her soulmate.

She read a few pages of her new book, looking at the village boundaries for the area around Great and Little Hangleton in the 19th century, before getting an early night.

XXXXXXXXX

Sunday

The day before, Hermione had seen Ginny's Harpies team win against the Chudley Cannons. The newest beater Georgie appeared to have got over her momentary grudge against Ginny from training and was actively involved with the win. Ginny gave her encouragement and from all appearances there was no awkwardness, but Hermione could still see a crush was evident and not quick in receding. She got five minutes with Ginny before the redhead had to go off for press interviews.

"Great match," Hermione said as she hugged her wife.

"It was fairly good. We all worked together well."

"I noticed."

"Ohhh, that. I don't know. I didn't say anything, and did what you advised, act normal, and it seems we're _chums_ still. Unless she's saving bludger aiming for practice only?!"

"Play it by ear...but it's always best not to over react to it," said Hermione, as she then observed a very short woman near the doorway to the interview room, making hand signals of some kind. "It looks like your club secretary needs you for those interviews now. Either that or she's trying to play charades!"

Ginny laughed, then leaned in and gave Hermione a short kiss on the lips. "See you tomorrow night."

The morning of the current day, Hermione had been to see McGonagall, to discuss Jane Howard's timetable, as she had promised.

"Do you think there is something we can do to improve her time management?" queried Hermione.

"Unless she drops any subjects, then we can do no more than shuffle some of her lessons around," the Headmistress replied. "But she won't drop any subjects."

"I know. I think she's continuing to get unfair pressure from home."

"It's always been the case. Muggle-born witches and wizards often have so much more to deal with, as you well know. There's never any guarantee as to how the situation is accepted, even after a few years at school here."

"My parents couldn't have been better about the whole thing, I'm a little lost on what I can do to help her."

"Letting her know that you care and you're trying to help is about all you _can_ do." Minerva McGonagall considered. "I will write to her parents again, but I suspect it will do no more good than my other subtle prods. And I have to be careful not to make it seem like Jane is failing, because that could make it worse."

"Well, shuffling the timetable should help some of her time between lessons, it's better than nothing." The Headmistress looked again at the timetable. "I think perhaps she can be removed from the greenhouse volunteer roster. She might be having studious herbology chats with Professor Longbottom, but for her probable path she will need other subjects more. It won't be dropping a subject as such, and I'm sure there are others to help care for the greenhouse residents."

The afternoon of the current day she had seen Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, with Jane Howard playing a match-winning performance. Now, Hermione was waiting for Jane in her outer room for their detention.

Ten minutes late at 6.10pm, Jane knocked on the door and Hermione opened it and beckoned her in, getting her to sit at the desk, while she herself took a seat to the side.

"Great match today," Hermione said warmly. "Obviously you must have been celebrating and that made you ten minutes late?"

"I'm so sorry, Professor! Professor Flitwick stopped me in the corridor on my way here, I couldn't exactly tell him to go away."

"Anyway, I have talked with the Headmistress and we have moved around some of your lessons, which should at least give you a little time between classes that you were struggling to get to and some more free time."

"Oh, thanks so much Professor," said Jane happily. "Even a minute here or there would help."

"However, we are removing you from the greenhouse roster."

"What?! I can't do that?!" Jane replied in a nearly panicked voice.

"It's really okay, Jane," reassured Hermione. "That was a volunteer thing, not an extra lesson. You won't be dropping anything only spending less time there."

"I can't stop going there. I...I like that job and talking to Professor Longbottom. My...parents..."

"You won't be missing anything," said Hermione. "It is in Professor McGonagall's opinion that other subjects are more important to any possible auror or Ministry career. It will give you two small free slots in your week."

Jane went silent, then nodded. "I can accept Professor Flitwick's offer now, then,"

"What was the offer?" asked Hermione.

"He wants to teach about half a dozen of us advanced Charms lessons a couple of evenings a week. I said I'd have to think about it. Well, I can accept, now."

Hermione sighed. "Do you think you'll be taking too much on? You're hardly managing your time as it is? We were trying to give you some free time, not fill it up with more work."

"I want to. I need to take those extra lessons," Jane replied determinedly. "It's important that I do all that I can while I'm here. It's also everyone the Ministry is looking at for potential, so I can't really not be there. And I was one of the ones that pestered him to teach extra lessons in the first place."

Hermione could detect yet again that it was probably parental pressure making Jane feel this way, along with not wanting to miss out on what other top students were doing. She nodded resignedly. "All right, but if things ever get too much for you, or you need to chat, come and find me."

Jane smiled back. "Thanks, Professor."

"As for this detention, you can go again in a few minutes. You can say I had you sorting out a bookshelf for me. At least you should get a little time to celebrate the win in the common room."

"You had two wins this weekend, Professor."

"Yes. Yes I did."

"Perhaps you're a lucky charm at quidditch matches?"

"Or perhaps I have the talent to only follow winning teams?!" offered Hermione.

"You never played much quidditch, did you Professor?"

"No. It wasn't one of my talents. I was only ever an adequate flyer."

"I was wondering about something the other day. When you were back in time did you have to do any flying?"

"No, thankfully, why do you ask?"

"I was thinking...how...well, how different the landscape would look from above back then, if at all, as well as what the flying guidelines were in muggle areas in the 1940s."

"You know, that is a great question," Hermione considered. "It has never come up. We never had to fly and where we were there weren't broomsticks, apart from in Diagon Alley, but as our tasks didn't require it we never ventured into it, or thought about it. In some ways it might not have been so tightly governed. With so many aircraft and enemy rocket propelled bombs coming over, I'm not sure something else strange in the sky would have been commented on...only possibly shot at."

"That's the key to all guidelines," said a very thoughtful Jane Howard. "The rules are different to different timelines, based on what was happening at the time period. You were in a muggle war. Had you been back a further 100 years or 400 years, flying might have been a big no-no to be seen doing, but something else such as levitation might have been overlooked as an entertaining illusion."

"Context is often behind understanding any laws, be it muggle or magical," said Hermione. "For instance, under Cornelius Fudge the Ministry was not very modern-thinking and couldn't adapt to situations that arose, but our current Minister is completely ready for changes and moving times."

Jane then asked some questions about the quidditch shop in Diagon Alley in the 1940s. Finally Hermione glanced at the clock in the room. She had been talking to Jane for half an hour. "I think that's your detention completed this time."

"Already?" Jane smiled broadly. "Thank you, Professor, for the timetable and for talking just now."

Standing up, Hermione patted Jane's shoulder. "Happy to help. You go and enjoy your Sunday evening now."

"You too Professor," said Jane as she left the room, to go down the steps and back out through the classroom.

_I'm sure I will,_ thought Hermione, with half a smile, getting a couple of items, including her new book from Friday, before making her way to a storage cupboard outside of her classroom, which she could safely Disapparate from. Several such cupboards existed in Hogwarts at the suggestion of Dumbledore from his portrait, giving escape routes in times of need. Only in those places could Apparating be done inside Hogwarts, but all had passwords known only to the teachers, and the head boys and girls, and head prefects of the houses, sworn to an almost unbreakable vow of secrecy, and they changed every week, very similar to the rules of the portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione walked up the back garden path to her house in Godrics Hollow, and went through the scullery to the kitchen, placing her few items on the kitchen table. She heard a rumbling noise of someone descending the stairs, then the door to the hall opening and Ginny appearing.

"Enjoy the detention?" asked the redhead as she came over and hugged her wife.

"It wasn't really detention in the truest sense, I was mainly chatting with her, then let her go."

"That's not fun if you can't do a bit of legal torture."

"Oh it was legal torture, waiting till I could come home to you," Hermione said before placing a soft kiss on Ginny's lips.

"It would be more legal torture if I had to cook our dinner, thankfully you have a whole school full of elves at our service."

"Have they been yet?"

"Yes, and with our Sunday favourites too."

"How was your time, after I saw you yesterday?" asked Hermione, as she put cutlery and placemats out on the kitchen table. "Any more incidents with little Miss Crush?"

"I think I finally saw what you claim to have seen about her," said Ginny, as she served out their dinner. "In fact, Gabrielle spoke to me about it too, as did Gwennog, but she's more worried about the team not in-fighting from a coach's point of view."

"Did either offer any advice?"

"Gwen said she hoped I'd sort it out and do things diplomatically, like I'm experienced at dealing with this situation, or something?!"

"I think you'll just have to do as before and take it day by day."

"I'm married," stated Ginny flatly, as she began eating dinner. "Everyone in the magical world knows I'm married to you, so why does she think I'd want to go off with her?"

"It might be that thing you spoke of before, about you being famous enough that she thinks she knows you a lot better than she does," suggested Hermione. "She probably thinks she knows exactly where I'm lacking and can be an improvement for you in those areas."

Ginny actually dropped her fork after Hermione had spoken that sentence. "You...you don't think that, do you? You don't think that's what I'm thinking?"

"Of course not!"

"Because that has no truth in it at all."

"I know, love," said Hermione as she reached over to hold Ginny's hand. "I'm just saying that someone with a crush, like her, probably thinks like that. We can't prevent her from thinking it, but not reacting to it will help."

"I see you have another book to add to our growing library?"

"Yes. This one has some detailed maps of Great and Little Hangleton, from a couple of hundred years ago. It's amazing how little, and also how much, some things have changed there."

"Whichever era you can think of, the Gaunts and Riddles would always have been weird," offered Ginny.

"True." Hermione thought a moment. "And dangerous."

"Any more books on that woman you really like? Anne something or other?"

"No, not today. But she's mentioned in those about the area, as she lived near the Hangleton villages."

The rest of dinner Hermione and Ginny talked of the Holyhead Harpies' match and also the Hogwarts match that Hermione saw too.

After a quiet evening, they went upstairs to shower before bed. Thanks to Ginny's father, they had both a shower and bath at their house.

"Did you get any bruises?" Hermione asked, as she got clean towels ready.

"Nothing bad," Ginny replied. "I mostly survived unscathed until the last twenty minutes. I think that's when they knew they were going to lose."

"Ah, the meat-head solution to not winning, bash everyone instead!"

"You can shower with me and check if you like," Ginny said, getting hold of Hermione's hand and leading her to the bathroom.

Even after a few years, Hermione's breath always caught in her throat slightly when Ginny suggested something which was laced with sexual intent. It still made her feel a spark of excitement, often all heading south in her body, but even without a mirror she knew she would be blushing a little. It was nearly as much a routine as the Friday phone call, their moment of reconnecting after a few days apart. Win or lose on the quidditch pitch, or trials in the classroom, they both looked forward to the few hours on Sunday night where they recharged their batteries and only thought about each other. They weren't sexually incontinent but their physical connection, even just holding each other had always been important to them.

Ginny got undressed and got the shower started, and Hermione undressed and joined her in the spacious cubicle. They embraced, reaching for each other and kissed slowly and gently. They washed their hair before Hermione said she would take a look at Ginny's side and back, where she thought she had been hit.

With Ginny turned away from her, leaning her hands against the cubicle wall, Hermione searched with her hands and eyes for injuries. There was a darkening bruise on the righthand side of Ginny's lower back.

"Does it hurt?" the brunette asked as she ran her hand gently over the bruise.

"No. A little stiff and sore, but nothing to worry about. It will be gone tomorrow, especially if I go to our team physiowitch."

"Are you sure I can't help now, get some dittany?" Hermione asked, gently tracing Ginny's toned back with her hands.

"Nah, I'll be fine. It's a standard kind of..."

"Are you sure, I can't _help_ you?" Hermione interrupted, while pressing herself against Ginny's back, running her hands along the contours of Ginny's hips before moving her hands up and around to cup her wife's breasts.

"Well..." the redhead said, more as a sigh than a word.

"It doesn't need a long answer," Hermione said in almost a whisper, just audible above the sound of the shower. "Do you want me to help you...or not?"

She moved a hand from a breast down to between Ginny's legs, holding her mound firmly. As her wife jerked very slightly into her hand upon contact, she knew the answer. She slid a couple of fingers into Ginny's folds and found an even more affirmative answer.

"Yes," Ginny managed to utter.

The redhead was about to turn round, but Hermione stopped her and pushed her firmly in front of her as she was reaching around and rubbing at her wife's centre in just the way Ginny liked; her other hand was holding a breast, pinching and rolling the hardened nipple, all the while kissing and lightly biting her shoulder and neck.

In a short time, she could feel Ginny's legs shake a little, so holding her more firmly she continued her ministrations with more purpose and felt her wife fall apart in her arms, and then slump forwards, leaning on her hands against the wall, panting.

"I've missed you." Hermione said, as she continued to hold Ginny.

However, Ginny surprised the brunette by how fast she recovered as she spun round and assaulted her wife with a passionate kiss, their warm wet breasts pressed together. As she kissed Hermione she quickly lowered her hand to between Hermione's legs and rubbed at her centre. She didn't get time to make it last longer as her wife's inner walls grabbed at her fingers as she came hard, slumping against her.

The couple kissed slowly, as Hermione was returned on shaky legs to standing up straight. They finished their shower in near silence, enjoying each other's bodies before going to bed, where they made love again.

"I needed that!" Hermione said a little later, followed by a laugh.

"Obviously?!" said a bemused Ginny.

"I didn't see you complaining?"

"I never complain about _that_!"

"It makes the quidditch season more bearable if that is our Sunday night routine."

"Well, we certainly get 'bare'?!" said Ginny with a giggle.

"It also makes Monday morning less annoying."

"I wouldn't say that, because it means back to work for you, and training for me."

"But, although we see each other most week nights, there's something more special about Sundays, when I haven't slept close to you for a couple of nights."

"If you're saying you miss the sex on Friday and Saturdays, then I would totally agree," replied Ginny.

"If I'm at Hogwarts I never feel I can...you know...make myself less lonely," said Hermione.

"I have the advantage of a private room at the team house. But yeah, there are a lot of times I want you with me," she leaned over and kissed Hermione. "Like, really _want_ you."

Hermione gave a smirk. "Ahhh, so you're still masturbating at the team house then?!"

Ginny blushed, as Hermione knew she would. It was always fascinating that despite how open they were with each other, and comfortable they were with each other, that they were still capable of blushing over some sexual things. "I'll take your cheek colour to mean a 'yes'."

With a slightly embarrassed groan, even though this subject had come up in previous seasons, Ginny gave a sigh of resignation. "I know we don't have sex every night we're together, but when we aren't together that's when I want you more. And, maybe it's my way of dealing with pressure the night before a match."

"So it's Fridays?"

"Yeah. It's definitely not a ritual, but that's when I need it most."

"Thank Merlin even more for Sundays, then," said Hermione as she wrapped her arms around Ginny, letting her partner tuck her head under her chin.

After a little silence Ginny said. "You're a couple of weeks or so into another year, now, are you still enjoying working at Hogwarts?"

"Mostly."

"So not completely?"

"At times it can be repetitive, and there are things you can't teach or help with."

"That's life, though, isn't it? We all want to push beyond what we do, but it's often not possible," Ginny said knowingly. "For instance: the Harpies. We've had a couple of good wins but I'm not sure it will last. We need a better keeper and for some reason Gabrielle isn't as on form as seeker and her backup would be me, as the other seeker on the squad is from Australia, where they interpret the rules slightly differently, and she isn't match-ready yet. We could be good, really good, but it's just out of reach this season, I think, and we can't change much about it."

"Maybe I should ask, do you still enjoy playing?" Hermione inquired.

"Mostly," said Ginny, who gave a little laugh at her similar response.

Hermione exhaled a breath, almost in a sigh. "That is just life then. Always wondering if you want more, or can aim for more, but probably always falling just short."

"Merlin's pants!" exclaimed Ginny. "When did we get like philosophical old farts?"

"It happens to everyone eventually."

"Having said all that, I think it's why I really like you at the matches."

"I don't quite follow."

"Whatever happens on the pitch, it's nice that I know there's at least one person who's on my side and will be the same to me whatever happens. No expectations, only love, unconditionally."

"I'm so sorry I can't make it next week," said Hermione regretfully. "I have to do a few Hogsmeade weekends each term, as usual, and I'm getting one out of the way quickly."

"I know. It's okay, we're playing Puddlemere. If there's one weekend when I'm confident we don't need to do much more than turn up to win, then it's that one."

"I'll look forward to Sunday evening all the same."

"Oh well, back to work in the morning," said Ginny. She moved herself, kissed Hermione and then settled more on her own side of the bed, with her arm left draped over Hermione.

"Night, Ginny."

"Night, love."

The following week went on as usual, Hermione teaching her classes Monday-Thursday, going home in the evenings to hear Ginny muttering about a bad training session or a new strategy she wasn't convinced about. Friday morning they said their usual goodbyes until they would see each other properly again on the Sunday. The Saturday this week saw Hermione on Hogsmeade duty.

As she stood watch to the entry to the village she couldn't help but think about her visits to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ron. They were mostly fun, but nearly always had some sort of intrigue or danger hanging over them. It was refreshing to watch her students going to enjoy their time without that fear factor.

Several of the students stopped and had a word with Hermione, and it was usually her top students, whom had started attending Professor Flitwick's extra charms lessons twice a week and would then be some Sundays too. Hermione was almost envious that she wasn't attending too.

She was sure some of the students acting friendly might have an ulterior motive of hoping for better grades if they were friendly with her, but she also hoped that it might be a reflection on her style of teaching that made her approachable, or maybe recognizing that she had been in the same place they had, not all that long ago.

The Hogsmeade visit was uneventful in all the good ways and Hermione actually enjoyed the walk back to the castle. She was at the back of the straggling line of students, but knew Hagrid would follow ten minutes later in case there were any pranksters thinking they had got away without detection.

On arrival back at Hogwarts Hermione found a note on her desk from McGonagall and a package. She immediately smiled upon opening the note: it was the Harpies match score; the match had finished quickly and the Harpies had won 210-0. Ginny had been right about Puddlemere being no trouble for her.

She opened the package and found the latest book she had ordered on selected magical and muggle Wills & Probate for West Yorkshire in the 19th century.

"Hmm, a bit of light reading until Sunday," she muttered to herself with a grin.

Sunday night was especially sweet, as Hermione hadn't seen Ginny since Friday morning and not spoken to her since Friday night.

"You were right, you really didn't need me on Saturday," said Hermione, as they still held each other in bed.

"Oh, I don't know...I'll always need you," said Ginny, turning her head to kiss her wife.

"I should be at the match next week."

"Good. I always prefer it when you are there."

Ginny sat up to take a drink of water, and saw Hermione's latest book acquisition. "Wills & Probate?"

"You know, what people bequeath to people when they die."

"I know what they are," said Ginny. "I'm wondering why you have a book on it?"

"It shows both muggle and magical Wills for that area. Not all complete but of interest."

"You're looking for the Gaunts and Riddles again?" Ginny asked, interested.

"Yes. They touch both worlds and I'm fascinated to see the origins. Or what trace of origins they might have."

"Is the amazing Anne in there?"

"Probably, and her partner, another Ann. But I mostly got it for the magical information, although on first looks it's not got much about Gaunts or Riddles in it. It backs some other information, though."

"Wouldn't Hogwarts or some of the book dealers in London have all that information, for the magical people?"

"All I've found so far," explained Hermione. "...is various author's opinions on the backstory of the Gaunts and Riddles. I want to see the documentary evidence myself and come to my own conclusions."

Ginny smiled. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't want to do something like that."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The Monday morning; not long after Ginny had left, Hermione made her way to Hogwarts after first going to Hogsmeade to pick up another book that had arrived for her in town, and then went on her way to the school and her classroom. She hadn't walked far when she came across a small group of three students seemingly huddled around one of the statues in a corridor. A few laughs were heard as she approached.

"We're cheerful today, aren't we?" Hermione said, hoping to make the students jump. They did indeed nearly hop up on the spot.

"Professor!" one of the students, she knew was a Ravenclaw called Sara Grey, exclaimed.

Hermione could almost see the cogs working in Sara's head as they were trying to think up an excuse for something the brunette could, as yet, not see.

"Come on then," said Hermione. "What have you done? What's so amusing?"

Sara was about to answer when a Gryffindor student called Mark Latimer answered first. "We weren't doing anything wrong, Professor...just trying out a practical part of a lesson."

"Which lesson?"

It was then another Ravenclaw, called Verity Askew, who spoke up. "It was those extra charms lessons Professor Flitwick began."

"And he knows you're doing, whatever it is you're doing?" Hermione still couldn't see exactly what that was yet.

"Not exactly," said Verity.

"Well, you'd better explain it to me, then."

"Look at the face of the statue, Professor."

Hermione did then look at the statue. She wondered what it was she was supposed to be seeing when the eyes moved, not unlike her animated door knocker Humphrey back at her house in Godric's Hollow. She hadn't seen the statues at Hogwarts move in any way since the Battle of Hogwarts. "Is that it?"

"Show her," Mark prompted Verity.

The Ravenclaw began moving her wand like she was conducting an orchestra and the statue's feet started tapping. With every swish of Verity's wand the statue tapped in time; even its eyes went from side to side in rhythm.

"And that's a charm is it?" Hermione asked, interested. "Not some form of transfiguration?"

"No, it's basically using everything that is there already and rearranging it particle by particle not swapping it or sculpting it into anything else."

"As clever as that is," said Hermione. "I don't think Professor Flitwick gave you the freedom to experiment in the corridors. You'd better remove that charm, if you can, and not do it again out here."

"Sara!?" A voice exclaimed from down the corridor.

"Great, the Bossy Pants Brigade is here!" mumbled Sara.

Hermione turned to see Jane Howard come up to them.

"Professor Flitwick told us not to use that charm without supervision!" the newcomer explained.

"Why did he teach it to us?" said Sara. "He must have known we'd be tempted to try it?!"

"He also had trust in us," said Jane. "He might not keep teaching us if we break that trust."

All the students present were in the group of the brightest students, or the teacher's pet group as others, often enviously, referred to them. Hermione thought Sara had a point about teaching them something fun and probably guessing they would try to use it.

"No harm done," said Hermione. "Let's not loiter any longer in the corridor and get ourselves to our common rooms and then to our first lessons or wherever we have to be."

"My first lesson is with you, Professor," said Jane.

"Yup, me too," said Mark.

"We all do," said Verity.

"Well, I'll see you in a little while then," said Hermione walking on to her classroom to set up for the first lesson of the day, leaving the Gryffindors to go off to their common room. She would definitely have a chat to Flitwick when she got a chance, more to learn about the charm then to reveal her discovery of the students practising it. It made her wonder if she should have an extra lesson time for the brightest students, but that then made her think of possibly lost time from Ginny and her own interests, and also adding yet more lessons to her students' already busy schedules. Her after class chats would be fine.

It wasn't long before the first students wandered into the classroom for Hermione's first lesson of the day. It was Defence Against the Dark Arts for the 7th Year students. On Mondays she usually had every House present who were taking the subject for their NEWTs. The main difference from her days as a student, other than not having some extreme danger attached to the job, was that most of the Houses' students were not hostile to each other; nothing beyond banter and quidditch fandom. It was a refreshing thing that Hermione had begun to notice in her last year back there as a student. The Battle and defeat of Voldemort had changed things a lot. People knew real life and death and it had changed things, even making Slytherin less hated after the rogue element were separated.

A point in case was Hermione looking up and seeing the Ravenclaw Sara Grey enter the classroom deep in conversation with the Hufflepuff called Katy Pole and a Slytherin student called Tom Norris. The latter two were lively youths, with Katy having the nickname "Polecat" and Tom accepting that he would always have jokes made about him, that joke being that his parents were in fact Filch, their grumpy old school caretaker, and Filch's cat . He seemed to find it funny himself.

With all twenty or so students seated, Hermione handed out their marked homework from their last assignment on first instinct versus a battle plan and what might change in both instances and why.

"No grades for this?" asked Jane, then added a little worriedly. "...or is that just me ?"

"No one has grades for that assignment," replied Hermione.

A hand shot up from Sara Grey. "Sorry, Professor, but what was the point? Hardly any of our recent assignments have had grades."

"This year is all about refining your knowledge and polishing up your acquired skills, I don't need to grade this preparation work for your NEWTs, only comments will be made instead of grading," explained Hermione.

"Ahh," said Jane, nodding her head. "It was another Ministry thing?!"

"A 'Ministry thing'?" Hermione smiled. "It was an idea discussed with the Ministry for 7th Year students but it wasn't a personality test."

"Just as well," laughed Tom Norris. "I think I might have used up one of my nine lives already!"

"Yes, Tom, you probably benefit from no grading," said Hermione. "You're inventive but need your instincts polished, so you don't reply to a duel with a joke punchline and actually defend yourself."

The classroom was alive with giggles.

"Although, Professor, if you distracted an opponent with a joke that could be effective, couldn't it?" he asked.

"Perhaps, but it has no guarantees," explained Hermione. "If your opponent speaks another language, or doesn't have a sense of humour, then you're basically just giving out hot air as your attack and defence."

"It's nearly like saying 'oh look at that flying pig!'" offered Katy, whom up to that point had been quietly reading and more likely chatting with her neighbour student Verity Askew.

"It might be more effective than saying 'oh look at that flying polecat!'" said Tom laughing.

Hermione could see that comedy was very close to taking over her classroom, so she walked back to the front of the class and picked up a textbook. "Okay, let's land back on the ground and leave the flying pigs and polecats to get on their way." She picked up another book on chess. "At various points in history, both muggle and magical chess has been viewed as a training system for battle plans. In this lesson, we're going to see if that can be true for today in the magical world."

"Chess isn't a NEWT course is it, Professor?" asked Mark Latimer.

"No, not specifically," said Hermione. "But my job is to give you the inspiration to think through things from different angles and to maybe find that ingenuity to get the best marks you can on your exams at the end of the year."

"Cool! You're helping us cheat!" said Tom, grinning.

"Not exactly. I'm getting you to think, and hopefully inspire you to find all kinds of examples to broaden your understanding and ideas beyond only the words in the NEWTs textbook."

"I wasn't complaining if you _were_ helping us cheat," said Tom.

"Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin," said Katy, but not unkindly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, but she raised her hands. "Just to make things clear, stand-up comedy is not a NEWT." This got a few laughs. "So let's spend the rest of the lesson on what we're supposed to be doing."

The class settled down after some opening chess moves were discussed that mirrored duelling moves, along with defence for attack. Hermione then set the class to choosing three or four of their favourite moves and analogies to duelling strategy.

In the quieter time of rustled pages and the low mutter of students discussing the work, or so Hermione hoped, she picked up her new book and flicked through a few pages. It was another book on her current interest into the origins of the Gaunts, Riddles and the area of West Yorkshire that they had lived in. This book was more a database of residents in the area and any that had the right to vote or were entitled to help from the parish. Over the past couple of weeks she was getting used to the same family names that kept appearing in the various books she owned. It helped her to get a feel for the times and the people that lived alongside them. Her distraction was reading all she could, alongside it, about Anne Lister of Shibden Hall. That woman, highly intelligent and unusual for her times, was fascinating to Hermione. She had her reservations about her, as all researchers on her did, but it was a bright corner in an otherwise dull area, looking for any trace of Gaunts or Riddles. She was finding much more on Anne Lister than she was on them.

A couple of minutes into a chapter on the limited rights to vote, and she was distracted by a movement. She looked up to see a very fancy-looking paper plane cross the room and land on the floor near to Katy Pole.

"I believe the Owlery is that tower visible from the windows on the right," said Hermione, standing up to go and retrieve the paper plane, before Katy knew what had happened. She took the neatly folded piece of origami back to her desk, and unfolded it, expecting to see anything from a jesting insult to a love note. Hermione was disappointed to see it was a drawing of a paw print: a pad and three toes pads with the letters 'RTW' in those pads.

"Hmm, different," said Hermione. "In my day, the notes I had fired at me usually visualized my decapitation, or tried to make me react to lose House points. It seems that Mr. Norris has just sent his autograph to Miss Pole." She showed the paw print to the class.

Tom Norris's cheeks went a bit red, as did Katy's. Sara and Jane looked annoyed, but Hermione couldn't decide if it was jealousy that Tom maybe liked Katy, or in Jane's case, that she was just annoyed the lesson was potentially being messed up. But even Verity who had been quiet all lesson looked marginally annoyed. _Teenagers and their complicated lives,_ thought Hermione almost sighing.

The lesson bell rung and students began to pack their bags.

"Remember the next lesson we'll be looking at rogue enemies," said Hermione. "...the ones that are not obvious, or are unconventional. Read chapter 10 before the next lesson, please, and we'll discuss it then."

As usual Jane hung back, so did Sara Grey, Mark Latimer and Katy Pole.

"Professor, chapter 10 features a lot of events leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts, so a lot of it will be from your first hand accounts, then?" wondered Jane.

"Of course it will," answered Sara first, in a way that suggested Jane was asking a daft question. "We've all read ahead a little."

"It does feature things I was involved with, but only because of the subject matter that might help someone in the future," answered Hermione. "The first hand experiences show that we were all unprepared and lucky a lot of the time. It's hoped that we can better prepare people for the unexpected, so anyone, particularly those seeking a career as an auror, will have a wealth of knowledge to call upon."

"What was worse, Professor? Greyback or the man who nearly killed you at Little Hangleton?" asked Mark.

"Greyback was a very individual case, because of the way he was a werewolf, but essentially it was the same as any werewolf, just having to be even more wary because he was always in a sort of half turned state. The difficulty at Little Hangleton was a completely human person, but a rogue with no formal training. The surprise element was nearly my downfall." Hermione breathed out in almost a tired sigh, because she always had a deep feeling that accompanied memories from that moment in time, something she would never forget. "Had I not been so worried about performing magic in front of a muggle, I probably would have got away unharmed. That split second of indecision was enough to nearly kill me."

"Could any teaching have prepared you?" asked Sara.

"Possibly, although no one knew about the man, so I couldn't have known," said Hermione. "My more experienced self would now think that, any action in that situation was reasonable, because of the place and why I was there, and then knowing that any mistake, had he been muggle, would have been dealt with by the Ministry. But...," she quickly added, "...that doesn't mean we have a free ticket to act how we want; but, when you're in a dangerous situation, it feels different, you almost know something is wrong. That's what we hope to teach you too, to trust your instincts. Had I trusted to the totally weird appearance of that man there, then I would have acted and not hesitated."

"Who was he?" asked Jane. "It doesn't name everyone in chapters like those."

"There's a good reason why we don't put names of all the people into texts all the time," Hermione explained. "He probably had family. It's safer for everyone not to know the name, or any possible connections he has to people alive today. Therefore I won't, and can't, tell you, I'm sorry."

"Are you saying, that although he never went to Hogwarts, or any of the other schools, that maybe his descendants could be here, today, right now?" asked a wide-eyed Jane

"Look, I will be as honest with you as I can," said Hermione. "I know the man's name, obviously, but truthfully I don't know about any family he had or any descendants that might have found their way here. If there are any, it's unlikely they would know the full story either."

"Sometimes family and truths have a funny way of being discovered," said Katy, thoughtfully.

"That's very true," replied Hermione. "But any 'truth' like that about this subject would be news to me too. I most definitely wouldn't be the source. Even veritaserum would be useless because I have no 'truth' to tell." She concentrated on keeping her face neutral, because she did know a bit more about the man, John Massey, who had attacked her near Morfin Gaunt's hovel in Little Hangleton in 1943. She hoped to find out even more with all the books she had been acquiring, wanting to know if that man might have originated in that area and if not, when he appeared, rogue or not.

"Had you thought of going back to just before the attack and replaying the situation?" asked Jane.

"In all honesty, that hadn't crossed our minds and we were unsure as to the limitations with our mode of travel. When I was well enough to perhaps have tackled that idea, too much time had passed, too many things had changed, if indeed that part could be changed."

"You don't think you could have changed everything?" asked Sara.

"Exactly!" agreed Jane. "Was there some rule of time?"

Hermione sighed. "I might have been there, but I'm not really an expert." She ran a weary hand through her hair. "We were set a task with strict guidelines on what we could and couldn't change. All we had to do was change a small object, and replace it with an almost identical item. Apart from that unexpected duel, we never thought to change anything bigger."

"You didn't think to?" asked Katy

"All right, of course, we thought about some things," said Hermione. "We just knew it would be wrong to try, and maybe we couldn't, even if we'd tried." She looked at the clock in the room. "Anyway guys, it's time we moved along. I have lessons to prepare and you have lessons to attend."

There was a slight groan from one or two, as they began to walk out of the room.

"See you next time, and remember to read that chapter...if you haven't already."

"I really appreciate the time you give us," said Jane, as she put her bag over her shoulder. "It's better than any textbook."

"It doesn't mean you don't have to read them still," Hermione called after her, amused.

Due to an extra Hogwarts quidditch practice and other evening activities on this particular Monday, Hermione had an earlier dinner in the Great Hall with the other teachers and students. Ginny was going to be home later on that evening too, so it all worked well with their respective schedules. It would always feel strange to her to be sitting at the teacher's table, and she often caught the same bemused look on Neville Longbottom's face too.

Neville was sat next to her that dinner time.

"Everything okay, Neville?"

"Mostly."

"What's the other part that isn't okay, then?" inquired Hermione.

"Can't find the staff, these days," Neville mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"McGonagall stole my best greenhouse keeper and now Flitwick is stealing my second best one," he sighed. "Some of the plants are not doing as well."

"I knew about Jane Howard being taken off the roster, that was partly my fault too, in trying to make her timetable less crowded."

"Well now, Flitwick's taken Verity Askew too."

"She's Ravenclaw, so it's kind of predictable that she'd go to his extra lessons rather than the greenhouses," pondered Hermione. "You must have some others that are good? There are a few conscientious types in the 3rd year."

"I do have people, but they take a while to learn the way I do things, and what's best for each plant."

"It will work out, Neville, I'm sure it will. I'm actually almost jealous I can't go to Flitwick's extra lessons too."

"What could he _possibly_ teach you that you don't already know?" asked a baffled Neville.

"It just sounds like fun. They're certainly learning some interesting things from what I've witnessed."

Hermione had seen one or two other things, the group Flitwick was teaching, had learned, aside from the dancing statue charm. She hadn't acknowledged all the things she saw, not wanting the students to know that she was watching interestedly and intrigued, hoping they wouldn't try too hard to hide it. She was sure she had seen a variation on wearing a glamour to look different, without the need of using polyjuice potion, although it would essentially be working with your own features and tweaking things. After using the charm herself, with Ginny, to avoid bumping into Horace Slughorn – and as it turned out, he had Tom Riddle with him – she was interested in seeing others use it and if it was still roughly similar to what she had used herself.

She walked back down a corridor from the Great Hall, to go to her classroom before Apparating home, and passed Flitwick's classroom just as the man was walking out of it carrying a folder under his arm.

"Evening Filius." said Hermione, not at all sure she would ever get used to calling her former teachers by their first names.

"All things calm in the Dark Arts department?"

"Hopefully!" said Hermione with a grin. "I've been hearing things about your extra charms classes."

"Only good things, I hope?!"

"Yes. I think the students have been enjoying it."

"Oh, so they've been experimenting outside the classroom?" the small man asked, already knowing the answer.

"Teenagers. I rest my case!" said Hermione. "Nothing bad has happened though. There have been some interesting occurrences but nothing harmful."

"I have told them to be careful and not experiment, but whatever I say after teaching them something new won't be heard, because they'll practice it anyway, like your lot did."

"That's true enough. I almost want to attend your extra lessons myself."

"Ahh, well," Flitwick sounded hesitant then laughed. "I'm not sure I could teach you anything?! I think there are a couple of charms you basically invented or adapted yourself! So what could _I_ teach you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's what Neville said."

"It's true too," said Flitwick. "Anyway, I'm going into Hogsmeade for a drink with Hagrid and mark some papers too, if I can." He lifted up his folder.

Looking at the folder, Hermione saw Flitwick had some spare extra pages he was holding on the bottom and when he lifted the folder up, to change hands, she saw a familiar paw print drawing on the paper.

"That's the second time today I've seen that," said Hermione pointing to his folder.

"Seen what?"

"That paw print drawing. They haven't be flying them in your lesson too, have they?"

"Paw print?" Flitwick asked confused. Hermione pointed to the underside of the folder he was holding. "Oh. I didn't even know I had that. It was left on a desk the lesson before dinner, I meant to put it in the bin."

"So it's not a charm to make paper planes look all flashy and fly better?" asked Hermione, now wondering if the drawing was a form of charm.

"Now, that would be a great charm," said Flitwick, looking at the paper. "No, I have no idea what it is."

"Was Tom Norris in that lesson, from Slytherin?"

"Yes, he was. I had 7th Year students the last lesson."

"It's probably some code word love letter," said Hermione. "I've no idea what the RTW stands for."

"One of the mysteries of the teenage brain," said Flitwick. "I hope they're not flying these paper planes in every lesson?! Especially as you thought it was me who invented it!"

"In my time, I would have been concerned that a Slytherin flying paper planes with the letters RTW would be turning to the dark side. Of course that would be jumping to the conclusion that RTW stands for 'Rule The World'."

"Good grief?!" exclaimed Flitwick. "You don't think it is something like that? Maybe the Ministry should be informed, just in case."

"What I saw in my lesson was a lot of teenage nonsense, probably over girls and boys liking each other, or annoying each other - which could still mean they like each other - and RTW might stand for Rule The Weekend, or Race To Weekend, or Rescue The World, or remembering they _are_ teenagers, Raise The Wind."

"All the same, I'll make sure to ask them not to use charms outside of my classes."

"Have a good evening, Filius," said Hermione, turning at the end of the corridor to go back to her classroom.

"Raise The Wind?" said Ginny confused, later that evening. "What would be cool about that as a slogan?"

"It was only a daft suggestion, although I'm sure Fred and George could have used it for a product."

"Raise The Wild?!" suggested Ginny.

"Wild what?"

"That's the thing, it's ambiguous. Could be wild animals, wild parties, or the chanting at the next quidditch match."

"Rescue The Worms," offered Hermione.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Well I think anything has got to be better than S.P.E.W.," Ginny laughed, bringing up the organisation which Hermione had started in her 4th Year at Hogwarts in regard to house-elves – Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare - then Hermione mock-punched her and it made her laugh even more.


	2. Chapter 2 An Unwelcome Return

Chapter Two – "An Unwelcome Return"

Another couple of weeks passed and Hermione managed to get another Hogsmeade visit out of the way, to leave her free to watch Ginny the rest of the term, she hoped. She had observed some more charms practice from the same group of students. However, things took an unexpected turn on a Monday morning when she walked into her classroom for her 7th Year students and only just escaped a falling rafter from her classroom ceiling, from landing on her. She managed to dodge the falling beam in time to miss her head, leaving it to scrape her shoulder, but still knock her to her knees. She quickly recovered her composure, stood up and carried on with her lesson, telling the offenders her choice of action at the end of the lesson, as she had been able to identify which students it was straight away, mostly by their white, fearful shocked faces and their immediate admittance to the misdemeanour.

Apparently a couple of the usual group were experimenting in taking buildings apart and rearranging them, or something of that kind. But the near result of an accident had given Hermione no choice but to give a proper detention to Verity Askew and Tom Norris. She was disappointed with them, but knew that even the very good students could make bad choices sometimes and decided to use their free period later in the day.

After the lesson, in a short break, Hermione had gone back to her room and sat on her bed. Her heart was racing, and sweat beaded her forehead. Her hands felt shaky. Within a few moments of the incident she had been battling what she thought was a panic attack. She had held it at bay until now; as she bent forwards and took some deep breaths.

Hermione hadn't had a panic attack or anything similar for several years. She had never really experienced them until a few months after the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, when everything had actually settled down around her; it had been diagnosed and having sorted herself out, she had rarely felt this way in the years since. Not even her wedding day had made her feel like this. _It's because I was attacked, _she thought. _Or my body and mind _thinks_ it was attacked._ Taking a few more moments, the panic attack passed and she was back to normal. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled down the shoulder in front of a mirror to see a pretty colourful bruise forming. It hurt a little and felt stiff, but she had had worse in her life, and changed her shirt to feel less sweaty and prepared for her next imminent lesson.

Later in the day, around 4.30pm her two culprits walked into her classroom for detention. Both looked very down and and Tom didn't have his usual perkiness.

"Come and take a seat," said Hermione, gesturing to chairs at the front desk in the room.

"Professor, can I just say again, how sorry I am," Tom said. "Nothing has ever gone wrong like that before. The fact it nearly happened was a good lesson in itself."

"Thank you, Tom, but that still isn't going to get you out of this detention."

"I know, Professor, I just wanted to apologize properly."

"So do I," said Verity. "I'm sorry, we were overestimating our skills."

"Apologies accepted," said Hermione. "I must ask though, what on earth were you trying to do?"

"Well, it..." Verity began.

"It was a charm we learned, the last time in Professor Flitwick's extra lessons," said Tom.

"So, Professor Flitwick is teaching you to take apart rafters in a ceiling and put it back together, while hopefully not dropping any of the said rafters on someone below?" Hermione pressed.

"Not exactly," said Tom.

"It was a charm using a variation on _Wingardium Leviosa_, to take things apart and then rearrange or repair the thing in front of you," Verity tried to explain.

"So you thought you'd rearrange my ceiling?"

"No, it wasn't the main idea to try that...well...as you saw, we kind of got ahead of ourselves," said a still apologetic Verity. "But, it really was meant to maybe redecorate or repair something, or say you came across a road blocked by a landslide, it's powerful enough to put trees and things back into place, or even change how a house looks. Rebuild a bridge, rearrange a garden feature."

"I can see where that could be useful in any number of situations," said Hermione. "You just need to take care with advanced charms, or preferably try them with supervision."

"That's what Professor Flitwick said too," said Tom.

"Has he given you detention as well?"

"Yes, tomorrow evening," Tom answered tiredly. "He's cancelled tomorrow evening's extra lesson."

"Quite reasonable in the circumstances," said Hermione. "Now, what I want you to do for me this detention, is to write a risk assessment of the situation you created this morning, and apart from not doing the charm at all, what you could have done differently."

The detention task was boring, and Hermione wasn't altogether interested in the results she would read, but detention had to be boring and tedious sometimes.

As Verity opened a folder to retrieve a piece of parchment, another piece fell out. Hermione picked it up and saw the paw print drawing again. _So maybe Tom likes Verity AND Katy,_ she thought.

"What does the RTW stand for?" Hermione asked as she placed the paper on the desk.

"Er, it...um," Verity stumbled, and blushed.

"Or maybe Tom can answer, as he seems to be leaving his calling card everywhere?" asked Hermione, almost enjoying the way both her students looked uncomfortable.

"It's a silly thing," Tom replied.

"Rescue The Wolves?"offered Hermione.

"No, but that would be kind of cool...and...er, it's...er...," Tom smiled. "It's Rescue The...Wandless."

"You mean muggles?"

"Yes, Professor." Tom then sighed. "I know it's pretentious, but we all want to be aurors, we all know what happened to some of the muggles during that past war. If we become aurors, then we made a vow to...well...protect those that can't protect themselves. Muggles, or someone not in possession of their wand."

"Hmm, not what I expected," said Hermione thoughtfully. "It's an honourable idea. Why the paw?"

"I'm Norris, Katy is Polecat, paws just kind of worked. It was Dumbledore's Army that gave us the idea."

"I see."

"You're not impressed, Professor?"

"No, it's not that," Hermione gave a half smile. "It just makes me feel rather old, to have something I was involved with at school, used by the next generation."

While they were working, Hermione looked through another new book she had ordered on monastic ruins and other sites of muggle and magical archaeological interest in West Yorkshire. She wondered if she could find a pattern that went back further or became important for other reasons. She also had another book with information on Anne Lister, which she looked forward to delving into back at home.

XXXXXXXX

That evening Hermione was getting ready to leave to go home, looking forward to telling Ginny the answer to RTW when Professor McGonagall dropped in on her.

"You served the detention?"

"Yes, all done."

"Was it just this incident or have there been others?"

"Not like this," said Hermione. "The occasional unusual charm performed in the corridor, or in class, but today was the only time anything went wrong, or was close to going seriously wrong."

"I think I need another word with Filius," said McGonagall, seriously. "Maybe the extra lessons should be put on hold."

"I heard he cancelled tomorrow's lesson to serve detention to my two culprits."

"Yes, he's actually going to give detention to the whole group."

"Really?" said a surprised Hermione. "Well, it might get them thinking about consequences."

"There's something else I want to talk to you about." McGonagall, made sure the door to Hermione's rooms was closed and cast a silencing spell.

"Serious, by the looks of it?"

"Have you suggested to Miss Howard that using a Time -Turner might be beneficial to her this year?"

"No," said Hermione, wondering what sort of question it had been as there was no obvious tone for her to gauge. "After everything, I would never suggest it and certainly not to a student."

"I think I knew your answer, but I had to be sure."

"Has she talked about it? If she has, then I can assure you she's either misinterpreted something I said, or is making things up," said Hermione, feeling rattled. "She and other students sometimes ask about what Ginny and I dealt with back in time, but I have never given the impression that using a Time-Turner is a good idea. In fact, I give plenty of reasons to never want to use one."

"I just wondered if she had been more involved with the rafter dismantling, as a way to get back at you, for refusing to ask me about it for her, or..."

"As far as I know, it was Norris and Askew with the charm today. I know they all have this club but I truly believe there is nothing more to it."

Professor McGonagall looked more relaxed. "I'm sorry I had to ask."

"I understand. I do talk to my best students more candidly, but as I said, I never promote anything I did back then. Usually I spend my time telling them of the things that went wrong and how luck was mostly involved for surviving events."

"And you're unhurt from today? Truly?"

"A bump to my shoulder, but nothing a bit of dittany won't solve."

"I'll leave you to it," said McGonagall, removing the silencing charm and opening the door. "Enjoy your evening."

"You too."

Hermione went through to her bedroom, quickly changed and was about to leave when there was a knock on the door. She went to open it and found Jane Howard at the door.

"What can I do for you Jane?" she managed to ask, without a groan or hint of the mild annoyance she was feeling.

"I'm so sorry about today."

"It wasn't actually you that did anything, Jane."

"I just wanted you to know I wouldn't do anything like that to you," the younger woman said, her head slightly downcast. "Nor to any of the teachers. I know you all have put a lot of trust in me and have made more time for me to achieve everything I can, so I would never do something deliberately like that and risk that trust."

"It's okay. I gave detention to those that were responsible. No one is hurt, so everything is sorted out," said Hermione, now really wanting to get back to Godric's Hollow.

"I still have detention tomorrow, though. I don't know what my parents will think," Jane said with her head down.

"Treat it like another lesson, which it sort of is, in a way," comforted Hermione. "If your parents hear of it, you can truthfully say a whole group was punished as a deterrent, even though only two people were actually responsible."

Jane lifted her head and looked brighter. "I could say that, couldn't I?" She then saw that Hermione was about to leave. "Sorry for delaying you, Professor."

"No problem. I said you could come and talk to me when you needed to." _I'm sure that the Time-Turner thing with McGonagall is crossed wires,_ thought Hermione. _But I so don't want to address it right this minute._

"Thanks, Professor," Jane said turning to leave. "Enjoy your evening."

_I will, if I ever bloody get home this evening!_ thought Hermione as she briefly closed her door again.

It was a bit later than usual as Hermione walked into her kitchen, placing her new books on the table. "Sorry I'm late!" she called out.

Ginny came through from the dining room part of the house. "It's not that much later." She kissed Hermione and as she wrapped her arms around her the brunette flinched. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, I had a bit of an incident at school and I think it's just a bruise."

"Incident?" queried Ginny, narrowing her eyes. "What incident?"

Hermione tiredly sat down. "Oh you know, the usual. Students trying to rearrange the rafters and accidentally nearly dropping one on their teacher's head...which would be me."

"What?" exclaimed Ginny.

"Let's have some dinner and I'll tell you about it then," said Hermione, going to get the plates and cutlery.

After dinner, a shower and some dittany, Hermione remembered what to tell Ginny. "RTW, it's Rescue The Wandless."

"That's a bit...dull," said Ginny. "And a bit sort of..."

"Pretentious? Yes, they told me it was too. It's some sort of pre-auror training oath, or club, they have. I think it's quite nice really. It's inclusive of magical people needing help too. Dumbledore's Army inspired them."

"I'll need your help and inspiration this weekend," said Ginny, with a big sigh. "You'll be there at Caerphilly won't you?"

"Of course."

"You know how we hate our Welsh rivals," Ginny momentarily paused. "They're always so bloody lucky against us, almost like they've cursed us the minute we enter the stadium. We'll need all the help we can get."

"The thing is, I've been to all your away games there the past few seasons and the Harpies always lose...well, except for that bizarre draw two years ago," considered Hermione. "A student once told me I was a lucky charm for quidditch games, but I would say my powers do not extend to Caerphilly."

"See? It's like I said, it's as though we're cursed the moment we start the match," complained Ginny. "I like having you there, though. I think without you we'd be totally whipped. And...and..."

"And what?"

"I want that thing of at least one fan in the stadium there whom I know will not hate me, or blame me for anything. And whom I can enjoy a drink with at the club later to wind down."

"Whose idea was it to pick that match each season to have a club night back at Holyhead afterwards?"

"Gwennog, I think. Although the chairman probably likes the extra people around buying drinks and possibly getting some more sponsorship money floated our way too."

"But if you nearly always lose, wouldn't it be worth trying to arrange it after a different fixture?"

"As we always seem to lose, I think the psychology is that we can enjoy ourselves and let off steam after losing. And also if we think about it, try and imagine what it would be like if we actually win."

"Hmm," Hermione pondered. "I suppose it has some logic to it."

"Try not to have a roof fall on to you in the mean time."

Hermione was silent and Ginny sensed that her partner had tensed slightly.

"What's wrong?" asked the redhead.

"It happened again...after all these years."

"What happened?"

"A panic attack," said Hermione, in a soft voice. "I felt it come on after the incident and kind of stopped it, but after the lesson, it came back. I controlled it again, but I didn't like it."

Ginny wrapped her arm around her wife and brought her close. "It's all right."

"Is it, though?" questioned the brunette.

"It's a reaction to a dangerous situation," said Ginny calmly. "And if it happens again we'll face it how you did before, and I'll do anything I can to help that."

"I'm just hoping it was a one off thing, but I'm a little shocked that it came out of nowhere like that."

"Don't hide it, love," Ginny said, kissing the top of Hermione's head. "Tell me when it happens. You're not alone, okay?"

"I know." After a few quiet moments Hermione moved slightly and reached out a hand to one of her new books from the side cabinet.

"Ahh," said Ginny, amused. "That Lister woman again?"

"I find her fascinating," said Hermione. "She was ahead of her time, yet kind of behind it too. A woman of many contradictions."

"From the excerpts you've shown me lately, she was a woman of many women!" said Ginny with a laugh.

"Oh yes, that's equally fascinating," replied Hermione. "But it's her actual character and other activities that intrigue me too. If she wanted to do something, she bloody well found a way to do it."

"A kindred spirit," said Ginny, nodding.

"Maybe she is...was. I found her by accident looking in that area of West Yorkshire, but it's a great distraction when I need a break from the normal things I'm looking for there."

They discussed Anne Lister a bit more until they felt drowsy and turned off the light to sleep.

When Hermione arrived at Hogwarts the next morning, Filch was at the main doors and told her that McGonagall wanted to see her. She made her way to the Headmistress's office, and went in to find Hagrid, Neville and Flitwick already in the office, along with Ron Weasley.

"Have I missed something?" asked a very interested Hermione.

"There were a series of robberies overnight," said Ron. "Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade."

"Which places? What was taken?" asked Hermione.

"Ollivander's, Flourish & Blotts, The Three Broomsticks and a jeweller just outside Hogsmeade," said Ron. "We don't know exactly what was taken, because the inventory for those places isn't always listed, but the owners are certain things have been moved and at least two wands, a couple of books, bottles of wine and gemstones were taken."

"What's that got to do with us?" asked Neville. "And why just us here and not all the teachers?"

"We think it might be something we all have more experience with, "explained Ron. "It's very similar to mass robbery sprees that the Death Eaters used to do."

"You can't think there's any 'a 'em fools left?" asked Hagrid.

"At the moment we can't say, so we're being wary," Ron replied. "We want each of you to be our eyes and ears. Any student bragging about parents or friends, anyone you don't remember seeing in Hogsmeade before, anything unusual."

"Would the school be a target?" asked Flitwick.

"We don't see why it would be, but it has been the focus before in our recent history."

"Wonderful, back to paranoia mode," said Hermione with sarcasm, and seeing Ron about to reply with irritation, she quickly added. "I only mean that, it's not nice to go back to anything near that way of thinking again."

"Hopefully it won't be long," said Ron. "If anything develops it will be sooner rather than later and if nothing happens, then the robberies were the event itself and not the start of something else."

Discussion was then had about being a bit more proactive. Hagrid and Flitwick said they would go into Hogsmeade after dark the next couple of evenings on the pretence of going to The Three Broomsticks, but to see if anyone looked out of place. They were also going to patrol the corridors at night more, using the other teachers too, without saying why, other than needing to make sure no students were sneaking to the kitchens, or to any store cupboards.

Talk of anything approaching how things had been in the days of her schooling made Hermione tense. _That's all I need at the moment, _she thought.

When Hermione was home on the Thursday night, Ginny asked if anything had been spotted.

"Nothing," then Hermione added. "Although if Hagrid and Flitwick are going to the Three Broomsticks I suspect they aren't watching for people all the time and are testing Rosmerta's drinks too."

"Hogsmeade is always so bloody cold this time of year," said Ginny. "I'd want a drop of something to warm me up too."

"I can warm you up," Hermione winked at her.

XXXXXXXX

Next morning, as Ginny finished her breakfast she said, "Once...just once, can we bloody win on Saturday?!"

"Think of it as having nothing to lose," offered Hermione. "It can't be worse than all the other times you've lost there?"

"Can't it? What about losing 200-0?! Or someone knocking me out? Or...or me having to play seeker...or..."

"Now you're just thinking of things that can go wrong!" Hermione said slightly exasperated, then she paused. "Which could work..." Ginny looked at the brunette with a puzzled expression. "You've just told me the things that could go really wrong, so you've kind of already accepted them as possibilities, therefore..." Hermione emphasized with a raised finger. "...there should be no fear in _anything_ happening."

"That's almost troll logic!"

"Clever troll," said Hermione, smiling. "You just hate losing."

"So do you!"

"I don't play quidditch."

"But you always hated getting a bad grade on an essay, or not finding the answer to some problem."

"I mostly hate _you_ losing," said Hermione. "You take it badly."

"Are you saying I mope?"

"Perhaps a little."

"I'll try to mope less, then," said Ginny, standing up, getting ready to leave.

Hermione stood up and went around the table to embrace her, hoping she hadn't inadvertently hurt her partner's feelings. "It's only because you care so much about your team and about your playing standards. And I love that about you."

Ginny's face softened. "You love a loser, then?"

"Maybe only a loser this weekend," said Hermione smiling.

"I've got to get going," said Ginny. "See you Saturday...and definitely at night if not after the match."

"I always feel a bit out of place at your club functions," Hermione admitted. "I was never that great on a broom and never played quidditch, not even at the Burrow."

"If I wanted you there for your playing skills, I'd have got you signed to the team," Ginny said while reaching to hold Hermione's hands. "I like you with me. You always make me feel so confident and not like a little girl in an adult's costume. Plus, there's the other thing."

"What other thing?"

"I always like people seeing you're with me. That I'm not just me, there's another half to me."

"So I'm your trophy wife?!" Hermione asked, with a crooked grin.

Ginny held her hands more firmly. "I'm serious. You're one part of my life that I got completely right, and you're the reason I got to be anything, do anything. Urgh...I'm not explaining it very well."

Hermione went serious and linked her fingers in between Ginny's. "I love you."

"I think that's what _I_ was trying to say," Ginny replied. "And that it means the world to me when you're by my side, in whatever I do."

"Okay, you've sold it to me. I'd be there anyway, but maybe feeling a little less awkward now."

Ginny kissed Hermione. "I've got to go now, talk to you tonight."

"Absolutely! And see you tomorrow. Go get 'em," said Hermione, as she saw Ginny leave the house.

Friday went by fairly normally for Hermione; she had her usual lesson groups with no disrupted classroom activity. She had taken to looking up as she walked into her classroom now, just in case her students had been trying to rearrange the architecture again.

As Hermione finished her Friday evening marking parchments, she was already looking forward to talking with Ginny and not much later than 7pm this week. She finished her last parchment for her 3rd Year class about using the _Riddikulus_ method of dealing with Boggarts, when there was a knock on the classroom door.

"Yes?" Hermione said, not looking up.

"Professor McGonagall wants to see you."

Hermione did look up then and saw that it was Neville. "Do you know what about?"

"She didn't say, but I think it might be Ron here, as it's just us lot again."

Nearly uttering the groan she was inwardly doing, Hermione put her marked assignments in the correct boxes and into the store cupboard, before going to the door and walking with Neville to the Headmistress's office.

"Perhaps they've caught whomever it was and we can stop the paranoia again?"

"That would be good," said Neville. "I reckon it was just some drunks fooling around."

"It has crossed my mind from the places targeted. I say targeted, but I think it was all random; maybe even a dare."

Neville and Hermione entered the office and found Ron there again, as they suspected, with Hagrid and Flitwick, all seated waiting for them.

"Hi," Ron said upon seeing his former girlfriend, who became his sister-in-law. "All right?"

"Hopefully even better if you're here to tell us we no longer need to be in paranoid mode?!"

Ron smiled then stood up to face them all. "Well, hopefully not for much longer."

"So you don't have anyone for the robberies?" Neville asked.

"No, but we do have more of an idea of what was stolen," explained Ron. "Ollivander believes it to be three wands missing now. Rosmerta has said a vintage bottle of firewhisky and two bottles of muggle brandy were taken. There were only two books stolen and were titles that only customers with a special buyer's licence could buy. I'm not yet able to give the titles but if you came across any of the two books taken you would know what they were, from their unusual title and rarity."

"Something like that book Ginny and I were given by Dumbledore to sell?" Hermione asked.

"Err..."

"Not THE book?!"

"It could be," admitted Ron. "We have people at the Ministry checking our archives to see how many copies of books they believe to be in existence before releasing the titles to anyone else."

"I know it's off on a tangent but it would interesting to know where that particular copy went after the last time it was logged anywhere."

"We're hoping to find that out too," said Ron, before continuing on. "As for the jeweller, it seems several carats of gold and most of his precious gems were taken, sapphires, emeralds and diamonds, they left his rubies and other gems, but that might be because he had them in a different pouch."

"That doesn't sound like former students or even current ones somehow managing a robbery like that," said McGongall. "I would guess that it's a black market collector, either done the deed themselves or employed someone to take specific things while taking a few things for themselves."

"So why are we here?" asked Hermione. "It doesn't sound like we will be of any use."

"For now it's still a case of listening for any bragging," said Ron. "Suddenly 'mummy' or 'daddy' having items that are fantastical or 'bloody brilliant' and telling their mates."

"Ohhh, you mean like the way Malfoy often said too much about his dad?" said Hermione.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "When Harry and I got into the Slytherin common room that time, he was full of crap, but also quite truthful when he admitted he wasn't 'the heir' controlling that basilisk. Even little gits like him were more truthful in their House environment."

"I don't see how we can be in the common rooms of every house all the time?" wondered Hagrid.

"We could employ the portraits," said McGonagall, nodding.

"Oh, of course," said Hermione, feeling a little slow for not considering it. Admittedly she was a little more bothered about getting back to talk to Ginny.

"You can't trust all of 'em!" said Hagrid. "Some will tell you a load of ol' rubbish."

"We do need to pick carefully," said McGonagall.

"Ermm," a voice cleared their throat.

McGongall turned around. "Yes, Albus you'll be one of them," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Just checking," said the former Headmaster from his portrait, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Do you have any suggestions for others we can use?" Ron asked the room.

"I could get the Grey Lady to do that job in Ravenclaw," offered Flitwick. "She's probably more useful than some portraits."

"Look, I know things are better with Slytherin these days, but who can we trust for their common room?" asked Ron, doubtfully.

"What about Kreacher?" suggested Hermione.

"Everyone knows he's loyal to Harry," replied Ron. "And it might look odd if he's seen here or in that common room, supposedly visiting friends."

"Err," another voice cleared their throat. McGonagall looked around again, and saw Snape had arrived into his portrait. "I could cover Slytherin."

"Thank you, Severus," said McGonagall.

"So we need something in place for Hufflepuff," said Ron.

"I wouldn't trust the Fat Friar," said Hagrid. "Although he's a ghost, he's more interested in ale and food."

They discussed various portraits, ghosts, elves and other possibilities,

"I'll do it!"

The room turned to the voice that had come from a side wall. In a painting from the Triwizard tournament that Harry had been involved in, Cedric Diggory had walked to the front.

"Cedric?" Hermione said with disbelief. "I...I didn't know you were in the castle like this?"

"I'm usually only in the Hufflepuff common room," replied Cedric. "I tend not to wander far."

"So how did you manage to get here, just when we were talking about Hufflepuff?" asked an incredulous and slightly suspicious Ron.

"The Headmaster came and got me," said Cedric smiling, pointing back over their shoulders.

They all turned to see Dumbledore settling back down in a chair, then become very aware his presence was being watched. "You had a problem and I've found the solution. It's all rather simple."

"Thank you, _again_, Albus," said McGonagall.

"I'm here to help," the former Headmaster said with his almost mischievous smile.

"Are you sure about this Cedric?" asked McGonagall to the other painting. "We've never asked you to undertake something like this."

"I was supposedly good enough for the Triwizard tournament, so I think a bit of eavesdropping will be easy enough." Cedric gave them a radiant smile. "Besides there's no need to move anything, there's a portrait of me in the common room, we might as well make use of me."

Hermione was ready to shift in her seat to think about standing and hoping to leave, but there were some other things Ron and McGonagall wanted to go over. As far as she could see, they would be doing all this extra sleuthing and still not be any wiser about the crime and be of no help to the Ministry at all.

As they were about to leave McGonagall called Hermione back. She only just stopped herself from grumbling.

"Nothing to worry about," said McGonagall. "Another delivery, that's all." She passed a package over to Hermione. "Is that another book?"

"Yes," the brunette replied.

"You must be creating quite a collection now."

"It's grown lately."

"Might I ask if there's a particular subject, or are the books random interests?" the headmistress asked.

Everyone had left the room by now and Hermione felt safe enough to tell McGonagall of her studying project. "I wondered if I could find the origins of that place, the families and if there were patterns or anything that stands out as a possible reason."

"A reason for why and how people go bad?"

"Not exactly," Hermione pondered a moment. "Well, yes, if I find any indication. I think I just want to know more about that area and its history. I think I'll know what I'm looking for when I find it. I just kept being drawn back to what it was about that area."

"I'm always here for debating. I'd be very interested in your findings," said McGonagall, then she indicated to Hermione's parcel. "If you don't mind me asking, what book do you have there?"

Hermione unwrapped the brown paper and revealed the book, to be one that studied the history of large manor houses, stately homes and other buildings of historical importance in the West Yorkshire area. "I'm hoping to find some reference for the Riddle house and in that area and where the Gaunts were. They're all old enough to have references somewhere."

When Hermione finally got back to her rooms it was 9.20pm. She rushed through to her bedroom and got her phone. There were several messages, and all from Ginny.

"Bugger it!" Hermione almost growled.

Not caring about the time Hermione decided to call Ginny. There was no answer and it went straight on to voice mail. She then read the messages Ginny had sent.

"_Err, you around yet?" _

"_Marking, or teacher's pet club?" _

"_Has a thestral knocked the mobile phone mast down?"_

"_I miss you, love." _

"_I really miss you!" _

"_Bugger it, I'll have to accept you're married to Hogwarts as well as me!" _

"_Night. See you tomorrow at the match."_

"Fuck, fuck, fuccccckkkk!" Hermione uttered.

She felt awful as she loved their Friday night quick calls, and Ginny sounded hurt, even though she had come up with some reasons herself as to why Hermione wasn't on the phone. However, Hermione thought about the fact that had she known she was going to be late, or not available, she would have texted her to quickly explain, but she hadn't even had a chance to do that, not knowing how long she was going to be in McGonagall's office. It wasn't the time to send a patronus to the team house, causing way too much attention, so Hermione wrote a text back, hoping Ginny would see it in the morning, _"I'm soooo sorry. I wasn't here. There was a meeting. Ron's fault actually! See you tomorrow(which might already be today when you read this)! I love you."_

With a deep sigh Hermione then started to read her book. She found several large manor houses in the area of interest and added to her notes, that she had been taking from each book, for the things that stood out about the history or events that had happened over the years. So far she had found most of her pointers in the 19th century. So either a family, or two, moved in over that time and were corrupted, or became what they did before then, perhaps connecting property, either working for or acquiring themselves through various possible means, not all in the usual way muggles would be used to. She then got sidetracked by some information on Shibden Hall where Anne Lister lived.

XXXXXXXXX

The next morning Ginny awoke and the first thing she did was check her phone and smiled to see a text from Hermione. However, she was a little down that Hermione had messaged her to apologize she had missed their chat but didn't explain much more in her message. She couldn't contain a little intrigue into exactly what Ron was doing at Hogwarts again, and calling meetings too.

She looked at the time and saw that she soon had to go down for breakfast with the team. She quickly showered and dressed into a green tracksuit, there were no other colours to choose. She then sat down and started to write a quick text to Hermione.

"_I'll expect the details and..."_

_Knock Knock_

"Fuck it!" Ginny said under her breath, then called out. "Yes?"

"We're now going down to breakfast," said the voice Ginny recognized as Georgie.

"I'm on my way!" replied Ginny.

"_Gotta go. See ya!" _Ginny finished her text to Hermione, and then went to the door and just avoided an audible groan when she found that Georgie was actually waiting outside her door.

"Am I in trouble?" asked Ginny.

"Not that I know of, why?"

"Oh, I just wondered if you were escorting me to my execution?!"

Georgie actually blushed, which again tested Ginny's resolve not to groan or make undue weird facial expressions in response.

"I thought I'd wait for you, that's all." Georgie replied flustered.

"Well we don't want those cornflakes getting cold, do we?" said Ginny jovially and began walking towards the stairs.

"Do you still have a muggle phone?" the younger girl asked.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh? Do you want to borrow it?"

"No, no, not at all," Georgie replied, again a bit flustered. "I personally, never could deal with muggle stuff like that. I guess it helps in your circumstances, though, keeping in touch."

"You make it sound like I'm on a curfew from Azkaban and have limited privileges," laughed Ginny.

"It must be hard sometimes being that far apart."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she quickly pulled forward her inner calm and replied evenly. "It's not like we're in different countries...err...I know she's in Scotland and I'm in Wales, but the point is, we see each other the rest of the week, only not weekends during the season. It's not that difficult."

They had arrived at the canteen area and Georgie parted with, "I didn't mean it was. I would find it hard to be apart longer, I think."

Slightly shaking her head, Ginny got some cereal and toast and made her way over to a table where Gwennog was sitting.

"That all sorted out?" Gwennog nodded towards Georgie who went to sit with the other beaters, much to Ginny's relief.

"There was nothing to sort out."

"I hope you do sort things out, because I can still see the way she's looking at you," said Gwennog with a smile.

"I can't control how people feel," said an exasperated Ginny. "I'm not encouraging it either."

"We could do without that blowing up."

"Well the last time she blew up at me, she hit a bludger at me. That was in practice, so if she keeps it to there we'll all be fine."

Gwennog pushed her empty cereal bowl to one side. "Can we bloody win today? Please? Pretty please?"

"I don't know why you're asking me?" replied Ginny. "I try to play at my best, but Caephilly always have us beat."

"Why is that?"

"No idea."

"Because we always go into it thinking we'll lose."

"That's because we always do...except for that weird draw."

"What can we do differently?" asked Gwennog.

"Well, we talked about strategy for the game during the week."

"I think we need to change it at the last minute."

"And confuse everyone?"

"I'm concerned we might have a rat."

"It's possible, I suppose," considered Ginny. "Not much we can do about that. I'm sure it's the same for a lot of the teams getting information."

"We could play differently...perhaps freeplay."

Ginny took a drink of some juice. "So our new strategy, is to have _no_ strategy?"

"We can only lose?!"

"Yeah, why not," said Ginny, smiling. "I rather like it. They won't be expecting that _we_ know nothing about our own strategy and are making it up on our own."

"I think it's worth a go."

"And if it goes wrong?"

"Then I'll take the heat," said Gwennog with a determined smile.

**A/N: So, I decided to give Hermione panic attacks. All that she had been through, it just adds another wandering tangent. Anyone can get PTSD, anxiety or panic attacks of many sorts. I've been a sufferer for over twenty years. I don't go too deep with it in the story, but it adds a little sidebar to Hermione's character. **


	3. Chapter 3 Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Three - "Calm Before the Storm"

Hermione woke, stretched and immediately thought of Ginny and moved to get her phone and check for any messages. She wouldn't normally get any on a Saturday, but she hoped there would be acknowledgement at least. And she found Ginny's message straight away and was a little miffed that the message was so short and abrupt, but caught herself and thought, _I have no right to expect longer messages after mine!_

With a leisurely late breakfast in her rooms, thanks to the Hogwarts' elves, Hermione finally got herself ready to go to the match at Caerphilly. She wore jeans, shirt and sweater, and put her coat on over the top, knowing how cold the stadium could be at this time of year. She hoped to grab a hot chocolate once there. She expected the game to be a loss against Caerphilly, but she always liked to watch Ginny play. She would never be a huge quidditch fan, but supporting Ginny was important to her and she knew it was important to her wife. Her other half wasn't good at losing, but as this one seemed expected each season, and there was the club function at night back at Holyhead, there was more cause to pick up Ginny's spirits and it wasn't so bad as when they lost to other teams.

A last quick look in the mirror, and with her beaded bag in her pocket, Hermione made her way to her door; as she opened it she saw Jane Howard was about to climb the steps to her rooms. _What does she want now? _thought Hermione, while trying to maintain a neutral face,

Jane looked up when she saw the door open: "Professor Granger, Professor McGonagall wants to see you."

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll go." said Hermione, as she descended her steps.

Jane walked back to the door with her teacher then turned to walk in a different direction. "Enjoy your day, Professor."

"You too, Jane."

Hermione hurried along to Professor McGonagall's office, hoping that nobody else, and above all that Ron, wasn't there too, meaning another meeting. She knocked on the door and Minerva McGonagall asked her to come in.

"Hermione, I'm so glad we caught you."

_I'm not! _thought Hermione, but kept her cool. "What did you want to see me about?"

"I hate to ask, but we're in a bit of a pickle."

"About what?" asked a wary Hermione.

"We have two staff members sick, Hagrid and Filius."

"Nothing serious, I hope?"

"I'm told it's a stomach flu, but I suspect Friday night at the Three Broomsticks might be involved too," said the Headmistress, one step away from an eye roll. "Anyway, both were supposed to do the Hogsmeade visit today."

Inwardly Hermione gave such a lurching groan that she wasn't successful in stopping it completely and let out a disappointed sigh. "Couldn't you ask someone else? Neville?"

"He's gone to see his Grandmother, she's unwell."

"This was one game I promised Ginny I wouldn't miss," explained Hermione.

"I wouldn't ask unless I had to. I know about the fixture list too," said McGonagall, apologetically. "But the only other thing would be to cancel the visit, which wouldn't be good either, as I know the timing of this visit is often used for the first bit of Christmas shopping by the students and we don't want to change the routine, with everything else going on. I actually asked the Ministry and they want everything to run as normal."

Hermione gave a resigned nod. "Okay. I understand. I'll get ready, and be down at the gates in ten minutes."

"I'll be doing Hagrid's job today and be at the back. Sybil Trelawney will be helping too."

"Will you be in cat mode?"

"There's snow on the ground in Hogsmeade, I'm getting too old to want four cold feet," said the Headmistress. "Besides in my human form I'm told I can still be scary."

"I've heard it said," said Hermione, unable to stop a grin. "Is Sybil okay to do the trip? She doesn't normally."

"Well, we're down to the bare bones this weekend, Hermione. Beggars can't be choosers. We'll get her set up in the Three Broomsticks and make sure no nonsense goes on in there."

"See you in ten minutes, then."

_I'm really going to have to make this up to Ginny tonight and tomorrow, _thought Hermione, shaking her head as she walked back to her rooms, and then made her way down to the gates. Filch, finally resorting to wearing spectacles, had checked off everyone on his clipboard, so they were just waiting for the Headmistress and Professor Trelawney. _So if she's covering the Three Broomsticks, that means I'll have to do most of the village patrol. Great!? _Hermione thought sarcastically.

As she waited for the other professor, she saw some of her Gryffindor 5th Years' looking eager to get going into the village. She went over to them. "Christmas shopping? Or your own shopping?" she asked them.

"A bit of both, Professor," said a girl named Abigail Creevey, whom Hermione knew was related to the Creeveys she had gone to school with.

"Have fun today."

"Professor?" a voice said behind Hermione. She turned to see Jane Howard, who had been in a group with Katy Pole and Tom Norris. "I thought you'd be at the match today?"

"Duty calls," Hermione replied lightly. "Are you shopping today?"

"I might, it all depends on how much time I have."

"Ah, having meetings of the RTW?"

"What?" asked Jane.

"Rescue the Wandless?" said Hermione in a quieter voice. "I think it's admirable myself."

"Oh, yes, that. It was supposed to be secret," Jane replied, with a relieved look.

"Secret societies and clubs usually don't stay secret for very long, believe me."

"I suppose so," thought Jane. "But that's not what we'll be doing. We're going to do some revision for the end of term tests."

"As I'm not sure you're the type to like the smell of goat, I assume you'll be in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Can I ask a favour from you?" Hermione nearly whispered, conspiratorially, knowing this would play to a student like Jane. "Professor Trelawney is taking the teacher duty in there today. We're short-staffed this weekend. Only, she doesn't normally do Hogsmeade visits. Can you look out for her? Make sure no one sets her up, or tries to trick her, and that she doesn't have too many glasses of sherry?"

"Of course," replied Jane enthusiastically. "Consider it done."

"Thank you."

Professor McGonagall had arrived with Professor Trelawney and they were all able to set off to the village of Hogsmeade.

Hermione walked beside her Headmistress, as already two of her teacher's pet group were in deep conversation with Trelawney.

"I've asked them to look out for her," said the brunette quietly.

"That was a good idea," replied McGonagall. "I'll be taking the Shrieking Shack side of the village, so you can do the other end. We can meet up for a warm cuppa, then redo our patrol."

"Sounds fine to me, as long as I get back and can have a bite to eat, before going to a function tonight," said Hermione, pulling her woollen gloves on.

"Ah, about that."

"What?" Hermione, turned her head to McGonagall.

"I forgot to mention, we need you for corridor patrols this evening and tonight too."

"What?!" Hermione had lowered her voice, but knew she sounded like a student having house points taken from them.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but we're very short-staffed this weekend. Two are on leave to see family members, then there's Neville, two sick, one gone home to deal with their mother's funeral. Even Madam Hooch isn't here as she's gone to London for her usual meeting, to talk with quidditch suppliers for next term. I've left the school to Poppy Pomfrey and Filch while we're here."

"Must be one of those weird alignment weekends," said a resigned Hermione.

"Tomorrow will be better, as most of those away will be back and cover the staff sickness, at least," said McGonagall. "I'm sure Ginny will understand."

"She'll have to, won't she," said Hermione with a laugh. _I'm sooo in the dog house for this! _she thought, ruefully. _She'll make me grovel for weeks...which could be fun. _Despite their talk about it, Hermione was never very keen on the club functions, so missing that awkward event was a slight positive, however much she had tried to sound confident about it for Ginny.

XXXXXXXXX

At Caerphilly, the Harpies team had just been told by their coach, Gwennog Jones, that all their strategies had to be torn up and that they were to go out there and play how they wanted to. Most of the team looked around at each other, confused.

"No, I'm not crazy!" said Gwennog. "I thought we'd try something different. Let's see if we can find a way to win on instinct. Let's see if we can finally beat this bloody team and do it in our own little nutty way!"

The team seemed quite jazzed up and in good humour and almost relaxed in the knowledge that everyone expected them to lose, so just go out there and have some fun.

To begin with the Harpies were all over the place, and Ginny was almost hoping that Caerphilly found the snitch, and caught it to end the game and put them out of their misery. However, after another ten minutes things started to feel a bit more free, and passes were going back and forth like an exhibition of skill, rather than a proper match. Bludgers were hitting their mark and even their goalkeeper was more relaxed than normal and pulled off some spectacular saves. The Caerphilly fans were quite hostile and jeering at her, so she took a bow for every shot she stopped, which made the fans boo even more.

Ginny was enjoying this fixture for once. She had taken a bludger to the ribs and one to her jaw, but she didn't feel them as she scored again and again. She was getting jeers and boos too, but that made her laugh, and she deliberately made some fancy shots and moves. She glanced at the score board and couldn't believe it, the Harpies were leading 170-100. _Come on little snitch, _she thought. _Now would be a good time to buzz into our seeker's hand._

Another twenty minutes and the Harpies still had the lead and Ginny was aware that both seekers were racing each other after the snitch, as they passed in a blur of streaked colour. The crowd got louder. Ginny was barged into by an opposition beater, and although momentarily winded, she got the quaffle away for another Harpies' player to score again. There then followed a huge lulled groan from the crowd, followed by one Harpies' player after another shrieking with delight, as they realized that Gabrielle, their seeker, had caught the snitch and won the game for the Harpies.

The team got together on their brooms, patting each other on the back, hugging, giving the occasional delighted squeal.

Ginny hugged Gabrielle. "Hey you read the wrong script! We're supposed to lose, you know?!"

"A change will do us all good," laughed Gabrielle. "And who walloped that over-sized hippogriff chaser of their's?"

"That would be me," said a grinning Georgie, brandishing her beater's bat.

Everyone hugged Georgie, who was blushing and grinning in equal measure. They flew to the small section of their fans in the stadium, to wave at them, with Ginny trying to pick out Hermione. She couldn't see her, but was really looking forward to seeing her later and having a drink back at Holyhead.

Back in the changing rooms, Gwennog walked in and all the team stood up and started to do the 'we-are-not-worthy' mock bowing to their coach, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"It worked!" said Ginny. "The best strategy is no strategy."

"I was worried for a while, though," admitted Gwennog. "You looked clueless to begin with, but once you found your rhythm, no one was beating you today."

"Permission to get a bit legless tonight?" Gabrielle asked their coach.

"Granted, on condition that you leave something at the bar for me too!"

XXXXXXXX

An incident-free Hogsmeade visit ended and the students and three teachers walked back to the school.

Jane Howard walked up beside Hermione. "'Professor Trelawney Mission' accomplished, Professor."

"Thank you. Dare I ask what you did?"

"We made use of her." Jane then quickly added, "We got her to help with revision questions."

"Good plan."

"We figured we were getting something from it, and she couldn't get too many drinks in either."

"Thank you."

"Sorry you had to miss the match today."

"It's okay. Life goes on."

A tired Hermione went back to her rooms and changed, but before she left again to go to the Great Hall for dinner, she quickly sent a message to Ginny.

"_I'm sooo sorry I missed the match today. I can't get there tonight either. Something came up at Hogwarts. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. I miss you."_

At the teacher's table in the Great Hall, which was more sparse than usual, Hermione sat next to Professor McGonagall.

"Did you hear the score?"

"I haven't had a chance yet," replied Hermione.

"They won."

"The Harpies, won at Caerphilly?"

"Yes. Apparently they played really well." McGonagall, lowered her voice a little. "I'm sorry you missed it, and I'm sorry you're on corridor patrol later."

"Can't be helped," said Hermione. "I'm sure I'll get roasted tomorrow night."

"She'll forgive you."

"Hmm, maybe I can blame the whole thing on Ron?!"

Hermione usually got out of corridor patrolling, as she was the Defence Against the Dark Art professor, and it was thought beneficial that they weren't lacking sleep, to be their most effective. However, needs must, and instead of sipping ale or cocktails with Ginny at Holyhead, Hermione was wandering around dark corridors, with a her wand dimly lit, held before her. She had some pointless conversations with some portraits, retrieved someone's lost frog, just in time from being pounced on by someone's cat. She guessed the frog probably came from the nearby Hufflepuff common room. She spoke to a portrait outside who told her how to open the door this week, but instead of going in, she just released the frog to hop through the opening.

The time went by rather slowly, so to keep herself alert she went through some of the things she had been taking notes on. It seemed that the Gaunt family and the Riddles were harder to link to anywhere before about 1820. But what had been surprising to her was that a family with the name Massey had arrived in Little Hangleton. Maybe the Gaunts and Masseys had always been connected? Or became connected after having lived in the same village for so long? It then raised the question of whether several Massey family members had actually been magical all along. That was a disconcerting thought in the bigger scheme of things, but also helped her understand perhaps, how and why John Massey was protecting Morfin Gaunt and working with Voldemort in 1943,

Tired to the bone, Hermione was finally relieved by McGonagall herself at around 4am, by which time Hermione went straight to bed.

XXXXXXXXX

The function at Holyhead already had a party atmosphere to it. Ginny couldn't see Hermione when she entered the room. And with still no appearance after nearly an hour, she asked around the staff if they had seen her earlier or not. Telling Gwennog what she was doing, Ginny Apparated back to the team house and looked for her phone. The signal was always good up on the high windswept cliff the house sat on and she checked her messages.

On reading Hermione's message her heart sunk. _What the hell is going on, up there? _she thought.

On returning to the function Gwennog asked her if everything was okay.

"Hermione can't make it. She wasn't at the match either."

"Sorry, Ginny," Gwennog replied. "I'm sure she had a good reason."

"I'll get the low-down tomorrow, no doubt."

"Enjoy yourself, though," added Gwennog. "You were a big part of the win today, you deserve a few drinks. It wouldn't hurt to offer a few to the couple of press people here. They might write a nice column about us, and the Chairman would love that."

Ginny did indeed have a few drinks, moving around the room to spend a bit of time with each player and any partners people had. It made her miss Hermione even more, not to have her at her side. She gave a short interview to the press guy doing the rounds, and that made her miss her wife too. _This has happened too much, lately, _she thought. _I know how important Hogwarts is, but can marking papers be more important than this? Organizing house-elves? Flattering the teacher's pets?_

With a scornful little snort to herself Ginny drank from her current pint glass of beer. She stood up and walked to a seat at the back of the room, which was a little quieter. She was really proud of the team today, and so happy for them all, but she missed Hermione more than she thought possible.

"I heard Hermione couldn't make it," said a voice to the left.

Ginny turned to see it was Georgie sitting next to her. "Something came up at Hogwarts."

"That's a shame," the beater replied. "She missed a good game too."

"These things happen," said Ginny diplomatically. "A pain in the arse when they do, but can't change that." She finished her pint and started on the next one that Georgie had brought over to her, talking about the match and other things.

"I would say after today you could have asked any Harpies' fan to accompany you here and they would be lining up around the corner." Georgie declared.

"I don't date fans!" replied Ginny, then added with a little snort. "I don't date anything, I'm a married woman," They both laughed at that.

"Date might be too formal a word," said Georgie thoughtfully. "Escort."

"Escort?" said a wide-eyed Ginny. "That's another word for prostitute! I so don't want to go there!"

This made Georgie cough on her beer, and that made Ginny splutter and some of her beer went down her shirt, which made her laugh even more.

"Here, let me help." Georgie offered, with a napkin, to pat down the spilt beer. She looked up and giggled as she saw Ginny had some beer froth on her upper lip. "Let me just..."

Georgie dabbed at Ginny's face. "What are you? My mother?"

The younger girl laughed. "Nope I'm too young, supple and muscular for that!"

"_You'll _have the people lining around the block after today's game. You played bloody well."

"Thanks," Georgie blushed. "Well, at least I'm here to celebrate with you."

"As opposed to?"

"Hermione not being here."

"Oh that. I thought you meant you were having someone here with you and were trying to avoid them, or someone didn't turn up."

"No. I don't have a 'someone' yet." She dabbed at Ginny's face,

"You will, have, I guarantee it." said Ginny.

Georgie looked straight at Ginny and said more calmly than she thought ever would. "No one can compete at the moment."

"Compete?"

"With you." Georgie stopped dabbing with the napkin at Ginny's face and leaned in and pressed her lips to the redhead's.

Expecting to be rejected at any moment, Georgie braced herself to be pushed back, but she wasn't. A hand pressed against her cheek and the kiss was returned. Then everything happened rather quickly. There was a flash of light and a noise and suddenly Ginny was very aware, and very alert, and pushed back Georgie to see that one of the press people had taken a photo.

"Fuck!" said Ginny. "What the hell were you doing?" she rounded on Georgie.

"Having a good time, I thought you were too?!"

"I'm married! I don't do _THIS_!? Whatever _this_ is?!"

"You were lonely, she missed one of your best days. I just thought..."

"You'd step into her shoes?" Ginny ran her hand through her hair, very much more sober. "She _warned_ me about this."

"Who warned you about what?"

"Hermione said you had some sort of crush going on and to make sure you understood."

"I'm sorry, but you sounded lonely," Georgie said, embarrassed. "I thought you liked me. I...I couldn't stop myself."

"Look. I like you as a team mate; as a colleague and friend here, but I'm married to Hermione. That's who I was thinking about just now in my beer induced stupor. There is only her and me in this relationship."

"I...I just thought..."

"You thought wrongly, then," said Ginny. "Tonight was a confused mistake, but there can never be a you and me. My heart and soul belong to someone else: my wife."

Georgie nodded, then looked frightened. "Shit! That press guy."

Ginny realized the implication too and got up to find the man. He was being held back by Gabrielle.

"You can just stop this right now and not submit it," she was saying to the photographer.

"It's not that simple."

"Hey, you?! Don't you dare publish that photo!" said Ginny, eyes blazing.

"It's not up to me," the photographer snivelled.

"Sure it is, you don't submit the photos."

"It doesn't work like that now," he tried to explain. "Once I take my shot I press a 'send' button and they immediately get sent to my office, for the editor to look at."

"What?"

"It was an idea from the muggles with their internet and emails and digital photos..."

"No, not that! Are you saying you've submitted the photo?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"Bollocks!" Ginny exclaimed. "Let the guy go."

"I...I was only setting the scene of the team's celebrations."

"You're just a pervert!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "You can leave. Go on, sod off!"

"What the hell is going on here?" said Gwennog Jones, glaring at the retreating photographer and his press friend as they left the room, one of the Harpie's beaters with arms folded, standing near the door, daring them to even try to come back in.

"The usual press shit," said Ginny.

"It's all my fault," said Georgie.

"You're bloody right there!" said a still annoyed Ginny.

Gwennog got hold of Ginny's arm and led her to a quiet corner of the room, to hear what had happened.

"I told you to sort that out," said the coach.

"Well, it has been, now," Ginny replied.

"Only now, the rest of the league will have some ammunition when they see the papers on Monday."

"Fuck."

"Nothing we can do about it now," said a resigned Gwennog. "I hope that you can still get on well enough, to play in the same team as Georgie, after this?"

"I guess we'll find out in practice, by how many bludgers she hits at me."

"It's not funny!"

"I wasn't trying to be," Ginny sighed. "Oh shit, Hermione is going to kill me!"

"I think you have quite a bit of mess to sort out."

"And it's not my fault! I can't control how people think, or how they decide to act when my guard is down. Urghhh!"

"I suggest you get back to the team house for now, get some sleep."

Back at the team house, Ginny tried to phone Hermione to see if she was awake, but it went straight to voice mail. Rather than trip over her own tongue she texted her.

_I really need to talk to you tomorrow night. I hope you can make it home. If you hear anything odd about me before then, please don't listen to it. I can explain it all. Love you._

Hermione went to bed after McGonagall had relieved her night patrolling of the corridors, and she slept long, waking the next morning nearer lunch time, missing breakfast. She washed and dressed and taking a drink of juice, looked at her phone and saw the message from Ginny.

_What has she done or said now? _Thought Hermione with a wry grin. _Swore at a press conference? Swore at the chairman? _

She had lunch in her rooms, before tackling some more marking, and in the middle of the afternoon she was visited by Professor McGonagall. She almost hated seeing her visit, knowing that it was usually something extra she had to do, like the previous day.

"Everything okay?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Let's hope so."

"Did you see or hear anything after you took over the patrol?"

"No, but I have friends in various places and well..." McGonagall paused.

"What?"

"I think you need to talk to Ginny."

"Why? What's going on?" asked a very alert Hermione,

"It's not for me to say," the Headmistress said. "Look, why don't you get on home. We have three people back now."

"Okay," replied a confused and troubled Hermione.

A quick gathering up of a couple of items and Hermione, her heart starting to race, was back at Godric's Hollow, hoping Ginny had got back at her usual early afternoon time to be there.

"Ginny?" she called, walking through from the kitchen to the study, to find her wife sitting at the desk reading a book, or flicking the pages of a book.

"Hi, Hermione."

Hermione could sense something odd, and Ginny was not acting like someone who had helped to defeat a quidditch rival, after years of trying.

"All right, what is it? You leave me odd messages and then McGonagall says it's best I talk to you, and lets me go home sooner?"

"How the heck does _she_ know?"

"Know what?"

"You might want to sit down."

"You haven't got fired from the team, have you? Did you say something to the Chairman, or punch someone at the function?"

"Punch? No," Ginny was looking more uncomfortable. "Please, sit next to me."

"If it will get you talking faster," said the brunette, taking a seat next to her partner.

"Something happened at the function, and it got caught on camera and will almost certainly be in the papers tomorrow."

"What happened?"

"I...was talking to Georgie, at one point during the night, about the match and every day stuff. I was a little tiddly, I admit. But, the thing is, she kissed me, and at first I didn't pull back out of it and...it was long enough for some damn press git to photograph it and already send to his editor."

At first Hermione didn't think much about what she had been told, but as the words sunk in, she felt hot and cold at the same time; her pulse became even more elevated, and she must have been frowning, as Ginny got hold of her hands.

"I'm so sorry! There is absolutely nothing in it from my side and I've told her the same thing, and actually tore a piece off her, in saying that I'm with you and no one else." The redhead paused. "I was thinking of you, missing you, and after a few jars I wasn't quick enough to react and that bloody twat from the press got it on camera. And there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm so sorry, Hermione. You have to know, there is _nothing_ in it. I want nothing from Georgie, other than for her to do her job in the team."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there," said Hermione softly, trying to push back the stirrings of another panic attack.

"Hey, I'm not blaming you for this!" said Ginny, quickly. "Yes, I missed you and felt a bit down that you weren't with me, but no way would I cheat on you in any way."

"I know," said Hermione with a huge sigh. "I suppose it forced you to finally deal with Georgie's crush?"

"Yeah, Gwennog roasted me about that too."

Hermione's face softened, though she felt tense. "Come here." She wrapped her arms around Ginny and held her, enjoying the scent of her wife as she rested her chin on the woman's shoulder.

"Are we good?" asked Ginny, muffled against her neck.

"Err...not...shit, it's happening again," said Hermione as she tensed, her heart rattling in her ribcage. She tried to breathe calmly and slowly but she couldn't seem to fully expand her diaphragm.

Ginny felt Hermione go rigid and guessed what was happening. "Okay, just lean against me, just let yourself go. Relax your arms, concentrate on breathing. In...two, three, four...out, two, three, four." She held her, but not tightly and lightly rubbed her back to soothe her. After a short time she felt Hermione go a lot more limp and her head rest fully against her.

A short time later Hermione moved back. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise for that, it's mostly my fault, for adding to your stress."

"It doesn't make any sense to happen now."

"Perhaps you're tired from the weekend, or even a change to routine," suggested Ginny. "Can you forgive me?"

"Of course," said Hermione. "No doubt, there will be some fun on Monday at school."

"I'm sorry about that too...in advance."

"If it's one thing I got good at from a young age, it's dealing with lies, twisted versions of the truth and being laughed at."

Ginny brushed some strands of hair out of Hermione's eyes and leaned in to place the softest and sweetest kiss on her lips. "So how was your weekend? What was going on up there?"

Hermione told Ginny all about Ron, Hogsmeade and then the patrol she had to do.

"But you're not all auror-trained? Most are just teachers. It's no wonder you're a bit more stressed?!"

"I know," said Hermione. "But just like muggle schools, we're supposed to be the kids' teachers, parents, police, activity inventors, canteen and shopping escorts!"

"Could it be dangerous?"

"No idea at this stage."

"I hope it doesn't turn into some sinister thing."

"It's no more dangerous than letting you loose at a Harpies' function," said Hermione, flatly.

"Ouch!" said Ginny. "I deserve it."

"You do a bit," said Hermione. "You'll know what to do if you ever get another admirer."

"What? Get drunk at a party and let them kiss me to get into the papers, before telling them off?!" said Ginny with half a smirk.

Hermione actually looked a bit down. She had been all right with the news, but as the minutes went past she felt more annoyed about it, and perplexed about the panic attack.

"I'm going to go take a shower, before dinner," said Hermione, standing up, not offering to be accompanied like she often would. She wanted a little time alone.

After taking a shower, and drying her hair, starting with the towel and finishing with her wand, Hermione sat on their bed for a while, then feeling tired from the extra work and everything that had gone on, decided to lie down and take a nap. Their bed always felt so much more comfortable than the one she used at Hogwarts.

Ginny had been downstairs still flicking the pages of a book, but not reading the words. She knew that despite how accepting Hermione had been, that she had hurt her too. When her wife hadn't come back downstairs for a time, after leaving the bathroom, it worried her; she had accepted that Hermione needed some time alone. It made her feel even worse about the incident, though, especially as it seemed to cause such deep anxiety.

When it was nearing the time they would normally think about dinner, Hermione had not yet made an appearance, so Ginny went upstairs to see how things were.

Their bedroom door was ajar, so she pushed it open to see Hermione asleep on their bed on her side. As she walked into the room, Hermione opened an eye. "What time is it?"

"Not long from dinner."

"I slept all that while?"

"You must have needed it," said Ginny delicately, sitting on the side of the bed.

Sitting up and unable to stop a yawn, Hermione looked at Ginny. "I hope I don't have to take on too many night corridor patrols, it's completely messed with my sleep pattern."

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Ginny said, trying to maintain eye contact. "Despite what was said, I know I have and I'm sorry."

Hermione took a deep breath in and slowly released it. "I think I'm more angry with Georgie. To think she really thought she could take you away from me. That she was better for you...that...she had the nerve to even touch you...its..." Hermione had to stop as she had a lump in her throat, and wiped away a stray tear almost angrily.

"She might have tried, but she never had a chance with me," said Ginny, reaching to hold her partner's hands. "One dopey few seconds of physical contact, during which I had zero feeling for her. I didn't want her in any way. I didn't instigate it. She took me by surprise. I don't want her. I only ever want you in my life in that way. I love you. Our marriage vows were not just quaint words to me, I meant every single word of them and every day too. My life would not be worth living without you in it. And I feel devastated that I hurt you, in any way, and that I probably caused your anxiety earlier."

A kind of gulped sob escaped Hermione's lips and Ginny moved onto the bed next to her and wrapped her arms around her, pressing kisses to her cheeks, kissing the tears away.

"I know," Hermione sniffled. "I think I'm just tired. I...I don't want to contemplate that there is ever someone that will take you away from me. That I'm not there for you in the way you need."

"Hey shh," comforted Ginny. "You're all I need and want."

"I wasn't there for you yesterday."

"Because you were doing a pretty important job at Hogwarts."

"I don't know if this is going to work, any more."

Ginny froze, like someone had pierced her ribcage and was injecting her chest cavity with ice. Her breath caught in her throat. "No, you can't mean that?!"

Sensing that Ginny had literally frozen, Hermione quickly added. "My job at Hogwarts. I mean my job, not us."

"Fuck!" Ginny breathed out, having been holding her breath and sitting rigidly. She held Hermione firmer and found that she too was crying.

Hermione sat back and took Ginny's face in her hands. "Not us, my love. Gods, I'm sorry I scared you." She gave her a slow, sensual kiss. "After everything we've been through, some stupid little strumpet isn't going to chase me away!"

"Thank Merlin," said Ginny. "I was wondering how to plan my fight back there, for a moment."

"You'd fight for me? For us?"

"Yes, I bloody well would, and physically fight someone if I had to! You know that!"

"I do," said Hermione as she caressed her wife's cheek. "As I would for you. Actually, in the shower this afternoon, I was already planning key anatomical insertion points for daggers and other sharp objects."

"For the 'stupid little strumpet'?" Ginny asked, feeling more relaxed enough to be amused.

"Oh yeah, if thoughts were deeds, she'd have been bleeding to death in a gutter somewhere."

"I'm not sure now is the right time to admit that, the thought of you acting like that, turns me on," admitted Ginny.

"Really?" Hermione gave a half smile, before moving round to nearly straddle Ginny's lap, tucking her legs around the back of the redhead. "First thing that needs to be done is claiming back my property."

"She didn't take anything...except liberties and assumptions."

"Yes she did, she tried to claim your lips, and hope to own them and you," explained Hermione, before she leaned in and kissed Ginny, deeply and thoroughly.

All thoughts on any other subject were delayed as they made love, with every touch deliberate and meaningful; at times passionate, urgent and at all times with deep love as the cause, and the effects of reaffirming themselves, and for a time Hermione reclaiming her wife, even thought she knew she hadn't lost her in any way.

As they lay close together in the afterglow, every so often pressing a kiss to the other, Ginny remembered a subject from earlier.

"That's at least the second time you nearly crushed me," Ginny confided. "When you wanted to leave the Ministry to teach at Hogwarts, I wasn't sure what you were saying, then."

"Do I make you nervous about our relationship?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice.

"No," Ginny answered immediately. "But you're not always predictable. I have always loved that about you, that there are occasional moments it's hard to be one hundred percent sure of what you mean. It's like, as well as we are attuned to each other, you have a small portion that acts outside the fencing."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I know it's how your mind works, at such a speed and with many threads all at the same time. I wouldn't change it at all. I wouldn't change you at all."

"It is a fault of mine," admitted Hermione. "I tend to pick up a...a thread, you called it...and elaborate on it out loud, not always realizing that the person I'm talking to hasn't a clue which thread I'm talking about, or I've changed mid-conversation."

"That's just how you work. It must be frustrating when you have to go back and explain the thought?"

"Only mildly, because I quickly realize what I've done." Hermione was silent a moment before adding. "It happens in class too. And I'll have to explain something again. That's a little frustrating, because I'm not always certain if the kids aren't listening, or I haven't explained things well enough, or I'm just a bad teacher from all the above."

"Is that partly why you think Hogwarts is no longer working out?"

"Partly," Hermione sighed. "...this past weekend made me question how much my heart is in it."

"The actual teaching, or the other teachery parts?"

"Is 'teachery' a word?" Hermione laughed. "But yes, those parts are tiresome. However, you can't have one without the other."

"Change subjects?"

"I _could_ change," considered Hermione. "It's just with my track record, Defence Against the Dark Arts is nearly a calling for me. Would I be at all motivated to teach History of Magic, or Muggle Studies, or Arithmancy? No, I probably wouldn't."

"So it's either in or out?" asked Ginny.

"Maybe. Or maybe no one ever gets true job satisfaction and everyone has a part of their job they find tedious, or impinges on the rest of their life."

"This season at the Harpies I've found some parts tedious too, not just the stupid little strumpet parts."

"I suppose it might be that settling down, in life and jobs, is too normal for us?" wondered Hermione.

"You mean, we'd both be happier tracking down dark wizards hiding out in hovels, and living on wartime food?"

They both laughed.

"You might have a point there," said Hermione. "Maybe we did get a thrill from danger? I'm not saying I want my life in danger, or have to juggle multiple fake identities, but the simpler things in life meant so much more in those situations. I'm not sure how I'd be right this moment,though, with my little problem showing up again."

"Are you calling me simple?" Ginny laughed.

"Not simple. Perhaps simply gorgeous," said a smiling Hermione as she kissed her wife. "I think I'll have to have a deep think over Christmas as to whether I move on."

"Whatever you decide, I'll support you, you know that," said Ginny.

"We'll both have to be brave tomorrow, I expect. There's no telling what garbage they'll use with the photo of you and...and..._her._"

"Battle armour on, and ready to withstand and deflect, I think."

"Talking of dark wizards..." Hermione then told Ginny of the possible link between the Massey and Gaunt families being around in the same era.

"Sounds almost like an alliance when you put it that way," replied Ginny.

"I suppose it could be. Maybe it was?" suggested Hermione. "I'm hoping I can find out where the Masseys came from before Little Hangleton, perhaps they were always around the Gaunts?"

"For some reason that gives me the creeps, a little," said Ginny.

"I'm not sure what it will prove, exactly, but it's something I'd love to find out."

"Have you considered that the Ministry could use these type of skills again?" offered the redhead.

"Hmm. For the moment I'm happy to do this more as my own hobby."

The rest of the couple's Sunday was spent leisurely, both finding a place of calm before the possible storm that would hit them both the next day. They were prepared, and knew they had faced much worse, but it was still something they both rather wished they didn't have to brace themselves for.


	4. Chapter 4 Roasted The Odds

Chapter Four – "Roasted the Odds"

Hermione was taking deep calming breaths as she walked into Hogwarts that Monday morning, almost expecting the brewing of a panic attack and trying to ward it off before it started. Before leaving Godric's Hollow, herself and Ginny had made their hands into fists and touched hands like boxers at the start of a fight. In knowing that children could be nastier, they both knew that Hermione probably had the harder audience to face.

Neither had actually seen the Daily Prophet, as they were sure they would be shown or told exactly what it contained, probably with embellishments to the story.

Already Hermione could feel people looking at her, but she kept a pleasant expression on her face, nodded to some students and made her way to her classroom, except she didn't get very far when Professor McGonagall was in the current corridor, gesturing for her to follow.

In the Headmistress's office Hermione sat down, with a little dread. "I can imagine why I'm here."

"Would you like the day off?" asked Minerva McGonagall, concerned.

"What on earth for?"

"Perhaps to take some time, to...well, put things right at home."

"There's nothing to put right."

"Have you seen the paper?"

"No," answered Hermione, then quickly added. "But I'm sure I can guess what's in it."

The older woman passed the newspaper to Hermione, already folded back to the page in question. "I would still suggest you look at it, to acquaint yourself and be armed for any silly comments you might face here."

Hermione rolled her eyes, picked up the paper, with her worst case scenario images already in her mind. She looked down and there was a picture of Ginny – her wife – kissing Georgie. The headline was 'Star Harpies' players celebrate win together!' She thought about reading the small piece beneath, but was stuck on the photo. It was hard to look at and she saw that the photo had caught the moment where Ginny appeared to have her hand cupping Georgie's cheek. She had the same hot and cold feeling go through her, even knowing what was actually going on.

"You did know that's what I was talking about?" asked McGonagall carefully.

"Yes, I did," said Hermione, flipping the newspaper over and shoving it across the desk.

"And, things are all right at home?"

"Ginny explained it and I believe her. That other player has had a crush on her for weeks. I told Ginny she had to sort it out, as did Gwennog, and she didn't and that's partly the result."

Professor McGonagall visually relaxed a little. "I'm so glad to hear that and that things are okay between you. They _are_ okay?"

"Yeah. We both could have done without this incident, but we're fine. And I'm fine to work today. I know what to expect...even more so now, so I might as well get it out of the way now, because it will come up whichever my first day back happens to be."

"Of course. I was only thinking of how to help you, both of you."

"Thank you," said Hermione. "Anyway, I'd better get going for my first lesson."

"You have 7th Years don't you?"

"Yes. Meaning old enough to know everything and bold enough to play with it!"

"Good luck."

"I might need it!" said Hermione, as she left the office.

The 7th Years were predictable in how suggestive they were, but maturity did finally kick in. Hermione was aware of the looks she kept getting, and was almost wishing she had taken the day off now. At the end of the lesson Jane Howard stayed back for a few extra minutes with a couple of extra students, and when they had gone Jane remained.

"I'm so sorry about the weekend, Professor."

"None of it was your fault."

"I mean the...that...story in the paper."

"Ah, well I try not to take too much notice of newspapers," said Hermione, moving to wipe her blackboard clean."You'll be late for your next lesson if you're not careful."

"I'm just worried about you," said Jane.

"Don't be, everything is fine."

"How can it be?"

"Miss Howard, my private life, whether it appears in the papers or..."

"You've been through so much. You nearly died back in time from that guy – the one you don't name, because she left you. You deserve something different...something better."

"That's not something I want to..."

Hermione didn't get to finish her sentence as Jane came closer to her and nearly whispered. "You need someone who will treat you right." She then leaned in and tried to kiss Hermione.

Straight away a rather shocked Hermione pulled back. "No..."

"Professor Granger?! Merlin's bloody pants!"

That hadn't been Jane speaking, and both looked round to see Katy Pole in the doorway. Hermione physically took a couple of steps back from a blushing Jane.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked Katy.

"Not in _that_ way!?" Katy said, with a nearly disgusted expression, then shook her head, and went to the desk she had been seated at earlier, and picked up a quill. "Dropped my best quill in lesson. I'm going now. You'd better _finish_ up, Jane!" Katy eyed Jane fiercely, then she smirked as she left the room.

When the room held only Hermione and Jane again, it was deathly silent.

"What _were_ you thinking?"

"I'm sorry," said Jane. "I'm...I was so angry with that Weasley woman. I just thought..."

"That 'Weasley woman' happens to be my wife. Not that it's any of your business, but I knew about this newspaper story and there is nothing in it, except for a girl with a crush and a photographer of questionable morals."

"You're not leaving her?"

"Look," said Hermione wearily. "I'm flattered, but I'm happily married to Ginny. This stupid incident in the press isn't splitting us up, and most definitely not by the silly girl that started it."

"I'm sorry, Professor. You are one of the only people to understand me. One of the few to truly help me, I thought if...it doesn't matter now, I'm so stupid."

"Stupid isn't something I would call you. Misguided and makes occasional bad choices, maybe."

"Oh crap! Katy will probably tell people what she saw?!"

"Aren't you all in that RTW club? Surely you stick up for each other?"

"Not always, we don't...we don't all like each other that much all the time. It's sometimes...hard to keep everyone on the same page."

The bustle of students outside the classroom door made Hermione take a decision. " You'll be late for your next lesson, so you need to leave now. Come and see me after your free period before lunch. We can talk some more, okay?"

"Thanks, Professor. I'll try to make it." said a glum Jane, continuing to wear a blush as she walked out of the classroom.

_That's all I needed,_ thought Hermione, who couldn't be bothered to add that it wasn't a choice and she _needed_ to talk to her more.

Her next class were a 2nd Year group of Slytherin and Ravenclaw students, and a little giggly, but Hermione introduced them to some 4th Year Defence Against the Dark Arts concepts and they went remarkably quiet. While teaching them she couldn't help thinking, _that will shut the little buggers up!_

She had a couple of free periods before lunch and settled herself to some marking, her part of the castle being remarkably quiet and restful after forty minutes or so, when the door to her classroom opened, then closed. She looked up to see her Headmistress standing there, and having locked the door, and looking extremely serious.

The brunette put her quill down and breathed a tired sigh. "I can guess why you're here. Katy Pole told everyone about Jane Howard and me earlier."

"No," said a confused McGonagall. "Why, what about you and Jane?"

"She tried to kiss me," said Hermione sheepishly. "I immediately stopped it, but Katy walked in and probably thought she saw something that didn't actually happen. I'm talking to Jane before lunch."

"No, you're not."

Hermione looked up at her Headmistress. "You don't think that's a good idea?"

"Hermione, I'm not here about a student with a crush attempting to kiss her teacher, there has been an incident."

"Why didn't someone come and fetch me? Unless that's not that kind of incident?"

"It's been a bit confusing. And we weren't sure of the details until just now, when the alarm was raised." Professor McGonagall crossed her arms. "During 7th Year Charms we are left with Filius in the hospital wing, along with three students and one student missing."

"Was it a charm gone wrong?"

"No, not exactly."

"You don't mean a kidnapping?"

"No, it seems to be organized."

"By whom?" asked a confused Hermione. "Did someone come in from outside the school?"

"Again, no. It appears that it was planned by the students and there could have been more gone, had it been possible. As it is the missing student is Jane Howard."

"What?! Why?! How? Taken? Disapparated?"

"I believe it was planned."

"Maybe that's why Jane told me she'd 'try' to make our meeting later?!" Hermione was having trouble digesting the news with so many questions.

"I've come to take you to Filius. He has some rather disturbing information."

"Is he badly hurt?" Hermione asked, standing up.

"Not too badly, he can talk to us. He has burned hands and was a little winded."

As they walked along the corridor, Hermione noticed that hardly any students were around. She was also surprised that she felt relatively calm and in a prepared mode for action, it was preferable to the relapses into panic attacks she had recently experienced.

"I've quietly asked all teachers and prefects to take everyone back to their common rooms and to stay there until further notice, and blamed it on a possible poisonous potions spill. We didn't want to give any warnings or alarm bells, best to keep things contained as much as possible."

They arrived at a locked hospital wing. They walked into the ward passing a couple of students looking very pale, and one also with burned hands was Tom Norris. Katy Pole was lying down, a bandage around her head. Verity Askew had one hand bandaged and visible cuts to her face. They walked to the very end of the ward to a side room where Flitwick was. As they walked into the room, he opened his eyes, faintly shook his head and looked ashamed.

"Filius, you need to tell Hermione how you got your hands burned," requested McGonagall.

"It was the blast back from a...a Time-Turner," he looked away.

"Time-Turner?" Hermione's eyes were wide. "What Time-Turner?"

"The one...well _ones_...I created."

"You made more Time-Turners?" asked an incredulous Hermione. "Were you trying to help students like Jane to attend more lessons?"

"No, although that had been the first consideration in the beginning. My first attempt wasn't that good; I tried a new design hoping it wouldn't work, made me a bit ill, and that's why I went sick at the weekend. Jane Howard's parents were putting pressure on her to ask for one." Flitwick said, tiredly.

"She didn't ask _me_?" said Hermione. "_Why_ didn't she ask me?"

"She knew you'd refuse her," said Flitwick. "All of them knew you wouldn't agree to it, or speak on their behalf. And from the history everyone knows I was the one to create the Time-Turner you and Ginny used. Jane had tried to get you onside and thought she might have been making progress, until today, from what Katy told me."

Hermione was having trouble taking everything in. "Seeing the other students out there, I assume 'all of them' means members of that RTW club? Rescue the Wandless?"

Flitwick winced. "Not all of them. And it...it doesn't mean that."

"Oh?"

"It means Right the Wrongs."

"How would you know that?" asked Hermione, warily.

"Because I partly helped them."

"What the hell is going on here?" Hermione asked, shocked to the core.

McGonagall spoke for Flitwick then, to help join the dots. "From what I've learned, Filius is also our robber. Needing gemstones and gold to create Time-Turners from scratch."

"Why the book, wands and the alcohol?" asked Hermione.

"The book to make use of some helpful more powerful charms, which you spoke of in that very book you sold back in 1945. The alcohol to throw people off the scent, and he also needed to get Hagrid drunk, so we'd all think they'd 'patrolled' a bit too hard on the Friday night. And the wands just to add to the confusion," explained the headmistress.

"Okay," said Hermione, a lot more calmly than she felt inside. "What is the purpose of it all? To get to a few more lessons, change some grades back in time? What wrongs need to be put right?"

"Families, or so they believed," said Flitwick.

"Voldemort hurt them?" asked Hermione.

"No, you need to go back a bit further than that," said McGonagall. "It also seems this particular group of students got together a while back, with a leader, and worked on Filius, although it was mostly theory and hypotheses, except for a smaller group within RTW."

"They've been planning this, whatever it is, for months?" Hermione asked Flitwick.

"Not exactly planning, no. Absolutely not! Since Hogwarts was rebuilt, a lot of people were interested in the charms we discovered to make the school the fortress it always used to be," Flitwick answered. "Then last year and this one, the students, especially one, became a little more pushy and pressured me...in other directions. All perfectly theoretical...to begin with,"

"You don't give in to bullies?! I've never seen you do that, or back away from a fight," stated Hermione.

"I couldn't back away from this one. Other things and people were at risk."

"So where's Jane? I assume she's used a Time-Turner?"

"If I tell you the full truth, my family will be in danger."

"They won't, Filius," said McGongall. "I've had Bill and Fleur Weasley guarding them as we speak. They'll move them to a safe house until this is over."

"The full truth?" queried Hermione. "So you were supposed to tell me something different?"

" I was supposed to tell you, 'London'," Filius said.

"London? You did all this for a student, or students, to get to London?" Hermione asked, trying to contemplate what it all meant. "Why would they need a Time-Turner...unless it's London 1943 or 1945?"

"No," said McGonagall. "Tell her Filius."

"London 1526," the small man stated. "But that was the ruse, because the link is strong and genuine, but not what was planned." Filius Flitwick continued to look ashamed and steeled himself to continue. "That is the year that King Henry VIII begun to seriously consider Anne Boleyn as a wife to replace Catherine of Aragon."

"So why do a bunch of Hogwarts students want to go back to that date?"

"Anne Boleyn is the catalyst to everything. It's her fault for so many things."

"I believe a lot of nasty things happened during Henry VIII's reign, and due to his choices, why single out Anne?"

"How much do you know about Tudor muggle history?" asked Flitwick.

McGonagall looked to Hermione. "Do you?"

"Quite a bit," answered the brunette. "I read even more after 1998 and that..._event_ Ginny experienced in the crypt at the Tower of London."

"Because she marries Henry, it sets off a chain of events," Flitwick explained. "It made it seem perfectly fine for the king to marry whom he liked, when he liked. It made lots of people expendable. If he hadn't married Anne, he would not have been led to marry Jane Seymour, and there would be no Edward VI, and therefore no deeply embittered Mary I, no tyrannical Elizabeth I, who may never have been born, and Anne and her cousin Catherine Howard would also not have been executed. Not to mention the countless others executed by association or non-compliance to the latest laws Henry decided to impose."

Something was almost tickling Hermione's brain as she thought about the details, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was yet. "What was so important that a bunch of, otherwise model students, decided to act like a crusade against something? "

"Think on the names of some of our top 7th Year students," said Flitwick. "They all have families affected and executed by the Tudors. Henry Norris for supposedly sleeping with Anne Boleyn; the Pole family for being too royal from their family line to the Duke of Clarence, And the Grey family: Jane, briefly queen and executed by her cousin Mary I, and both remaining Grey sisters forced to live miserable and short lives due to Elizabeth I. Jane herself was related to Catherine Howard and also Anne Boleyn. Mark Latimer had very distant links to one of Catherine Parr's husbands but mostly joined in because he liked Jane."

"Shit," said Hermione. "I never saw any connection, yet the names were there in front of us." She paused. "Are you connected to this?"

"I too am related to the Greys," said Flitwick. "Mary Grey, the youngest sister, was often described as a dwarf with a crooked back. The short genetics are in my family. She was treated poorly by Elizabeth I, separated from a husband that was of lowly rank, no threat to the throne, yet because of Elizabeth's pernicious vanity she had to put a stop to it and punish them both, in ways some might say are worse than execution."

"So they hoped to stop Anne Boleyn and therefore stop all their ancestors having less than pleasant ends?" Hermione asked, paused, shook her head. "How bloody stupid can you be? _YOU_ of all people?! Changing any of those details could be catastophic not just for us maybe never being born at all, but for the entire world! It might even free Voldemort again, and he could be the least of our troubles! And I've never been sure big events can even be changed at all anyway, so it's petty meddling."

"I didn't think it would go anywhere," he replied. "Very soon into it last year, I knew I had to stall, and I kept stalling until the week before the robberies."

"What changed?" asked McGonagall.

"Jane Howards parents became nastier. I never talk about my private life, but I do have one, and they threatened to hurt my family. I then discovered that they had no intention of going back to 1526 at all. That it was supposed to be just Jane to carry out their real plan for 300 years later. It was one or two things Jane said and then her parents, and I then learned, with more threats, of the true date."

"Which is?"

"I don't know everything, but they were going to start in Halifax in 1832."

"Halifax? Do you know what they're looking for?" asked Hermione uneasily, feeling a chill down her spine.

"Jane's parents are muggles, but that wasn't always the case." Flitwick said. "Like most muggle-born the magic comes from somewhere."

"And?" Hermione prompted impatiently, "Is it Boleyn/Howard blood?".

"That's what we assume, but I can't be sure."

Hermione could almost feel the blood leave her head, feeling faint. "What could happen in 1832? Some other ancestor doing something or other?"

"Yes." Flitwick's shoulders slumped. "I only knew that a couple of days ago. I hoped to avoid it ever happening."

"This could hurt everyone's family!?" said an incredulous Hermione. "Why didn't you talk to Minerva or me, or even Harry at the Ministry?! You knew we could be trusted."

"I was desperate and told I was being watched. I also believed that the Howards were threatening their daughter. They wanted her to take as many subjects as possible so the only solution would be giving her a Time-Turner. That area was their one hurdle, not actually knowing how outlawed the concept became after the war. They also threatened the other students and their families, so as to not give it away nor get cold feet in helping Jane."

"That part is starting to make sense," answered Hermione. "It would explain why Jane panicked about dropping a subject and taking on as much as she could. Do you think she's complicit, or just acting for her parents in fear?"

"To begin with I would have said the latter...they bloody well scared me!" said Flitwick uneasily. "But Jane is incredibly intelligent, I would say she's involved with the whole thing to some extent."

"Why would all the others go along with it? What have they to gain?"

"I think the others went along with it, as I suspect Jane, or her parents, gave them the promises of the possibilities. They might also have been threatened or have some kind of pact." Flitwick sighed again. "I believe that they are all connected in some way, as older families from minor and major gentry tend to be. And any family oaths have probably survived too. Jane wasn't exactly popular with any of the members of their RTW club, though."

"The question is still why and what is Jane doing?" asked Hermione, her mind going in a hundred different directions.

"The Howards are quite in debt, or so I've heard from other people," said Flitwick. "They claimed that with Jane's intelligence she could have had any muggle job she wanted. And that magic was the root cause, but also the answer. I think it's to do with what the family owned in 1832, or something they did or didn't do. They want to change it, somehow. Believe me when I say that I tried everything to stall, I was hoping that getting the Time-Turners to explode would stop them from working, but one still did, and it was her one," explained the small man. "I was supposed to make three. I did nearly stop it and hoped the explosion and any small injuries caused would show that I couldn't achieve it. I had to build them from scratch this time, as the other one which you used was destroyed. I know what's at stake here. I wish I could have told you both, but sometimes when the wolves surround you, giving them the food they want is the only way that seems clear."

"We need to get the Ministry here, now!" said Hermione abruptly. "We need people to start on some response to keep any losses here under control...if that's even possible now."

Professor McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I'll send an urgent message now."

The Headmistress went to the corner of the room and sent her patronus with a message.

In no time footsteps were heard and into the small side room walked Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minster for Magic, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. All the newcomers were quickly brought up to speed, with utterances of colourful language punctuating the reception to the news.

"This is a fine bloody mess we've got here, isn't Filius?" Kingsley said, sternly.

"There is something we could do," said Harry. "Not a brilliant idea, from a danger point of view, but fairly logical. Filius, how are your hands?"

"Should be healed in a few hours."

"Could you use them now?"

"With more pain relief, yes."

"Good, you're going to make another Time-Turner, and this time with no self-sabotage tricks. It needs to be in working order."

"Understood," said Flitwick. "I stalled with the making of the Time-Turners before, but they don't actually take too long, especially if I use the body of the only one that wasn't completely damaged."

"Harry you'll have to be really careful going back in time to retrieve Jane, and hope that she hasn't changed anything too much yet," warned Hermione.

"Which is why we're going to send you," said Harry to Hermione.

"Oh shit!" was all Hermione could say, with a very sickly feeling in her stomach.

Hermione sat down on a nearby stool with the a thump. "You're serious? Hmm, I can see you are."

"You're the best person for the job, perhaps the only one qualified to do this," said Harry, in a slightly pleading voice.

"I'm not the only one," replied Hermione, with a crooked smile. "If I'm going, then Ginny comes with me."

"Even better...two heads and all that," said Ron. "But we need to get moving and soon. You need to get Ginny here as soon as you can."

Thinking over all the ways in which to explain to Ginny that they had another time-travelling mission, made Hermione stumble a couple of times as she made her way back to her room. She really couldn't begin to decide what reception her news would get. She had a certain amount of dread but, also a firmer feeling of strength. It was like tapping into a special skill and she felt no more anxiety than a bubble of nervous apprehension.

She went to her drawer and got out her mobile phone. It was lunch time by now and she hoped Ginny would be available, or she would have to cause a scene and send her patronus.

The phone rang, and didn't go to voice mail, after a couple more rings Ginny answered. "Hermione?"

"Hi, can you talk at the moment?"

"Yes, I'll just move a few paces away," Ginny replied, experiencing a sinking feeling in her stomach. "All right, we can talk. Is it about that blasted newspaper?"

"No. Ginny, there's been an unexpected development, there's..."

"There's not another photo out there?"

"What? No!" exclaimed a flustered Hermione. "It's nothing to do with that. Please, listen. I can't tell you everything now, but the Ministry needs me for a...a...mission. And I won't go unless you come with me. Except I might be forced to go anyway..." she nearly groaned. "I need you to come to Hogwarts now, right this minute. It's urgent."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you everything when you get here. Please, just get here."

Ginny felt a little nausea, worrying about all the things it might be, but she also recognized a little bit of excitement under it all. "I'll be at the gates in a few minutes." She picked up her bag, had a quick word to Gwennog that something had come up and she might have to miss afternoon practice and she had to go to Hermione, and Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, where Hermione was already waiting for her.

Hermione took Ginny to her room and explained what was happening. Although Ginny's face dropped and she uttered a few expletives, she still didn't feel unduly scared.

"1832? So no WAAF uniforms?" the redhead asked.

"No, definitely not. There was no air force back then and although women have always been near the front line in nursing and other capacities, despite the authorities poo-pooing the idea, no women were officially in the military forces. Well, except for top army surgeon Dr. James Barry, but no one knew it was a woman, or never revealed it until he..._she_ died in the 1850s." Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, I'm babbling, but no, no strange uniforms."

"We obviously can't go looking like this, though?"

"I've been giving it some thought. I need a few books from home and we should both take our enchanted bags...that's if...," Hermione paused, uncertainly. "...if you'll go with me? You don't have to, but..."

Ginny was sat on the bed and Hermione opposite her on a chair. The redhead took her wife's hands in her own. "There's no way you're going by yourself."

"Thank you," said Hermione with a glowing smile. "That means everything to me."

"I'd never let you go off to do something like this alone, not if there was a way I could share the burden too," said Ginny, leaning forward to gently pressed her lips to the brunette's. "Let's get packed. What will we be wearing, though?" she asked, again.

"1832 is...William IV, so still a slight regency look, probably," offered Hermione. "Oh dear...it might be a bit Jane Austen, even though it's a decade or so after her time."

"Not the puffy sleeves?" a horrified Ginny said. "I remember that boring costume drama you made me watch during the summer. THAT was Jane Austen. Oh Merlin's pants, I can't wear that!"

"Maybe we can negotiate on the puffy sleeves. Perhaps a very smart, but more serviceable dress, it's not like we're going to try and stand out as gentry with bags of money, not obviously so. Perhaps we can wear something similar to what we wore for Knockturn Alley? It might allow us to blend in a bit more."

"That wouldn't be quite so traumatic. Do you even have those dresses still?"

"Yeah, in the beaded bag."

"You kept them?"

"Souvenir," Hermione said with a grin. "They'll easily adapt to what we want. I'll make sure to pack some others we could adapt as needed."

Hermione led Ginny to the cupboard near the class room to Disapparate to their home in Godric's Hollow. They got Ginny's enchanted bag, which she occasionally still used - a gift from Dumbledore in 1943 when she had been left alone and had to try and find out what had happened to a missing Hermione - and quickly packed a few items and toiletries. Lastly, Hermione went into her study and perused her top shelf, asking Ginny to make a list of the books she was taking. It included some of her latest maps and boundaries books, historical references to the area and a few books on people of the time that might help them in any social situations, including Anne Lister who mentioned all kinds of local dignitaries in her diaries.

"It is too bizarre that I only just found out about the Massey and Gaunt possible links to that area in nearly that time frame, and then _'boom'_ it's suddenly very relevant. I really hope they aren't involved with any of this," she said as she picked up several of her recent acquisitions for West Yorkshire, as the Hangleton villages were close to Halifax.

"We're covered for maps and even perhaps the names of people we might come across," observed Ginny. "That's already much more information than we had last time."

"It makes you think, that maybe this was all predetermined," Hermione said wistfully as she put the last book she thought she might need into her beaded bag. "Or, did something, or someone, manoeuver me into this loop?"

"No, no, no," said Ginny, waggling a wary finger. "Don't start that already, you'll tie our minds up into knots. I'm prepared to say it's very coincidental and well timed, if something like this can be, I'll leave the more deeper thinking till later."

Hermione gave a little laugh. "We'll still have some mystery here. What the flipping heck Jane wants to do back then?!"

"She used you." Ginny said bluntly.

"I realize that now," said a sad Hermione. "She manipulated me and a few other teachers for up to a couple of years. That attempted kiss was probably a final try to...I don't know..."

"What kiss?" Had Ginny been a dog her ears would have been standing straight up.

"Oh! You don't know about that?!" Hermione felt flustered again and agitated as she realized what had really happened. "Jane approached me, this morning, with a sympathy routine about your photo in the paper, and tried to plant a kiss on me."

"That's against the rules, isn't it?"

"Well, only if I instigated it, or responded..." Hermione shook her head, and flapped her hands. "Which I did neither! A friend of her's saw it...or thought she saw something, but anyway, the point here is, not whether she really wanted to replace you, like Georgie did with me or...well, or it was part of a calculation that if today was the day she had a perfect excuse to try and..."

"Jump you?" offered Ginny with a raised eyebrow.

"It was only an attempted kiss, which I avoided, and right away! I was going to tell you, but haven't had the time. BUT, I'm thinking she hoped I might fall for it...maybe fall for her and go with her." Hermione put her hand to her head. "All the questions about what we did back in time and rules we followed, it was all gaining information. She possibly didn't have all she needed and perhaps hoped to take me with her as a guide. I don't believe she had any real feeling for me, or not what she thinks it was. Shit!"

"What now?"

"What if she tries to get a Hallow in that time, so by our time we'd be swapping a replica for another bloody replica?Bugger bugger, BUGGER!" Hermione was angry now.

Ginny stepped forward held her wife's hands again. "Let's not talk as if that _is_ what she's doing. We don't know anything yet. We can, however, hopefully limit the damage she can do." She leaned forward, and kissed and hugged her partner.

"Ready to go?"

"Not quite. We need some money for the era." Hermione opened a drawer in the study desk and brought out some boxes.

"Won't the money from before be good?"

"No, it's still pounds, shillings and pence, but they'll have different designs and have a different monarch on them."

She tipped out the box of mixed coins and a bag of plain copper and silver discs.

"I forgot you had those blanks," said Ginny.

"I got them after last time, not because I thought we'd need them, I was just interested in coin transfiguration and thought they'd be good to practice on. I never really got around to it." She went to one of the bookcases and brought out a book on coins and flicked through the index and to the pages for the era 1830-1837 for William IV.

In minutes she had two purses of shillings and pence, with a few farthings, and other denominations. She then flicked to a section on bank notes and made a few Bank of England five-pound notes."

"Separate purses again?" Ginny observed. "Good idea."

"I'm hoping the main danger is from pickpockets, but they won't get them from our pockets if they're just inside our enchanted bags. And there's one thing I thought about, which I think we should do."

"Which is?" asked a wary Ginny, wondering what else would be needed.

"I think we should remove our wedding rings, saves having to make up some hideous story about where our husbands are, along with telling far too much of a lie which could trip us up."

"Agreed," said Ginny, as she took off her ring. "At least we can be truthful in that we've been friends since childhood."

The brunette took off her own ring, stared at it for a few seconds then placed it with Ginny's, in a secret draw in the desk and magically locked it. She then quickly scribbled a note and attached it to the leg of her owl Hugo, before seeing him fly off through the window. "I'm sending him to Harry's place, in case we're gone a little longer than expected. Okay, ready," Hermione said as they went back to Hogwarts.

Both women sat in McGonagall's office with Harry, Ron and Kingsley present.

"Filius is nearly finished with the Time-Turner," the headmistress said.

"Any extra knowledge to divulge?" asked Hermione, hopefully.

"No," replied Kingsley. "From what Minerva says you have been studying that area recently and probably know more than we ever could."

"Do you know about the probable link between the Massey and Gaunt families in that area at that time?" Hermione asked, the Minister having always been aware of all the facts from their time in the 1940s.

"No, but it's not surprising to find families still linked either by marriage, oath or plain loyalty, from even further back. It proves again that you're the right people to try and sort this problem out."

"I suppose one of the unknown things is, just how much does Jane Howard know about those links, if at all?" Ginny asked. "If she does know, it could be more than chance that she's there, which...er...complicates things."

"She means more dangerous in a Deathly Hallows kind of way," said Hermione, with a side glance to Ginny, realizing that Ginny had actually been worried before, when she had spoke of that issue. "Whatever she knows or doesn't know, she's doing something dangerous by just appearing there at all."

"Well, I think we'll need new names, won't we," suggested Ginny. "And we can't use the ones we used in the 1940s because..."

"We might meet people that could pass on those names, even in passing family stories, that then make what we did in the 1940s a probable failure," Hermione finished her wife's sentence.

"We better think of something quick," Ginny said. "Plain, but not too peasant-ish."

"Any ideas Harry?" Hermione asked her friend, then the room. "Anyone?"

"How about Emma for you Hermione?" said McGonagall. "It's almost close to your name if you make a mistake and splutter over it."

"Okay, good idea." Hermione thought a moment. "I'll be Emma...Emma...Richmond. I think that's a place in Yorkshire and not an uncommon name, and also an area in London."

"Just me then," said Ginny. "How about, Eugenia close to Ginny, or part of it, just in case and sounds a bit posh. And you can still call me Ginny, as we were always close to messing that up before. Need help on the last name."

"Read!" said Hermione, fairly quickly. "It means 'red of hair'! I read it in a book, and that was a name that stuck in my mind."

The rest of the room looked a bit confused, but Ginny just grinned. "It seems we have the names sorted out."

"I guess we quickly need to decide what we're doing there," stated Hermione. "I can't imagine that many out-of-town women travellers go to Halifax in 1832, randomly?"

"Visiting various places in Yorkshire, and you were enchanted by Halifax on your way to Leeds, once." Harry was the one with the suggestion. "You just had to stop on the way back, and look at a couple of villages you had heard of nearby. Maybe even mention a relative once stayed at the White Hart pub in Great Hangleton. Be as close to the truth."

"Yeah, that trick tends to be the best policy. It will do." Hermione answered, satisfied. "It might be best if we don't drop the Hangleton information too soon. We're not sure that Jane really does know about those places properly. We'll have a bit more information."

At that moment Flitwick walked in, looking very tired and strained. He handed the Time-Turner to Hermione. "It works similar to how the other one did."

Hermione looked at the object that appeared to be very close in design to the one they had used in the 1940s. "Is it the same rules for movement."

"A slight change," Filius said.

"An upgrade, I hope!" said Ginny, only half joking.

"Actually, yes," said Filius. "When I started work on this, I realized that we don't know the exact date that Jane has gone to. I had her items brought to me from her dormitory and using her hair from her hairbrush, I think we can find her. Simply stating the year and the rough location and the person you want to find."

"What if she's dead, how do they get back?" asked a concerned Ron. "If Jane doesn't then exist, her hair won't mean anything."

"You only need the hair to locate the initial date I can't work out a way for it to actually find the person, there was no time. It hones in on what the muggles call DNA which stands out in the timeline, but nothing more specific. I have a hair wrapped around the diamond ready. Perhaps we'll get lucky and she'll be only a few yards from where you start from? It's the best I could do."

"Clever," said an impressed Ron.

"So, the rest of it is the same? Using the word '_Movere_'?" queried Hermione. "And getting back here is the same, once we know when we're going to come back here exactly?"

"Yes. The first time, is the year, location, and Jane's name followed by '_Movere_', after that just the date and location with '_Movere_', but there's one more precaution," Flitwick, put a hand into his pocket and brought out a little velvet pouch and handed it to Ginny. "There are two more identical sized diamonds in there, if the one on the Time-Turner breaks, or refuses to work. There is no final command like that last one."

"You _were_ busy on that robbery," said Ron, with a raised eyebrow.

Flitwick ignored him. "That was a risk we didn't tell you last time, that if the Time-Turner broke, or the diamond failed, that you might have been stuck in the 1940s, unless Dumbledore could help you. There is also a little bag with a couple more hairs if you need to relocate, if she tries to move to a different time again."

"Yeah, so glad you gave us all the information needed, _this_ time," said a very sarcastic Ginny.

"There is a little instruction on how to change the diamond, in the bag." Flitwick continued. "It's just a simple '_Reparo_ Time-Turner' when changing the stones over."

"The only thing that _is_ simple about this," said Harry.

"Well, we need to go," said Hermione. "Jane has already had a couple of hours head start on us. Time to put on some sort of costume."

"You can change in my private room," said McGonagall.

In the private room off the side of the headmistress's office, Hermione brought out the old black dresses, the bodice work and buttons on both not having aged since they last wore them, a quick spell making them look new. Without too much thought and both thinking they would be fine, they both flicked their wands and changed into the dresses.

"What about hair?" asked Ginny. "That nightmare costume drama had a lot of big hair. Hepzibah Smith would probably be right at home with her gateau hair-do."

"I think a neat bun would be fine, as long as it isn't loose on our shoulders like only young girls would wear it."

Another flick and both women had their hair in neat buns, and any loose bits at the sides, neatly styled.

"We're turning into McGonagall," said Ginny in a whispered giggle.

"That will have to do," said Hermione, already feeling a little tired.

They walked back into the office to five pairs of eyes looking them over almost uncomfortably.

"Wow!" said Ron.

"Yes, well, we have to pass for the time period, but not stand out too much." explained Hermione. "We don't want to look like super wealthy people attracting notice, but we don't want to be really poor-looking either, as some doors would be immediately shut to us."

"Looks good to us," said Harry.

"We'll have to watch our speech," added Hermione. "Ladies such as us wouldn't swear in front of others and unless we spoke with a local accent we wouldn't shorten words too much."

"I remember that awful show you made me watch, the stiff talking was something that stayed with me," replied Ginny. "At least it might actually be useful to have watched it now. Anyway, ready?"

"Yeah, we need to go," said Hermione, actually feeling a slight excited feeling beyond the nerves and worry. "We can't aim for Halifax train station as it didn't exist in 1832. I know from my books that the parish church, now called the Minster, and a place called the Piece Hall existed, also the Assembly Rooms, which I know less about. I would say the first one would be safer to Apparate to. We can duck round a pillar or behind a pew if we need to. And hopefully it's not a Sunday, so shouldn't be too many people in there. It's a bit safer than aiming for the churchyard, as we have no idea what people traffic would go through there at that time."

"Sounds good to me," replied Ginny. "As good as any of this can sound, anyway."

"I think it's best if you leave from here, at this moment," said McGonagall, Kingsley nodding in agreement. "It keeps it to this room with us."

"Will that Anne woman be there?" asked Ginny.

"No idea. I would think not. A lot of the time she read sermons at home instead of attending the actual church and didn't go there much outside of Sundays anyway."

"Oh, just wondered."

Hermione and Ginny stood up, checked they had their enchanted bags. Hermione put the Time-Turner chain around Ginny's and her own neck, with Ginny holding her arm for security. She looked at the clock in the room, it was 3.39pm. "So, we'll call it 3.40pm, Monday 19 November 2007." She nodded to McGonagall and the others. "See you...in a few seconds...hopefully."

She smiled as she thought about how, if things went well, the people in the room would only have seen them leave and then reappear shortly afterwards. She tried not to dwell on the bad thoughts, of not making it back, or the stupidity of Jane having erased their existence somehow. She got out her wand and pointed it at the Time-Turner.

"1832, inside the back of the nave of Halifax Minster church, West Yorkshire, Jane Howard, _Movere_."

Only a few moments passed before the two women felt the long ago, but familiar, feelings of time travel; that strangling, crawling, wind-rushed pummelling of a journey, ending with a thump as they both landed hard on their backsides on a cold stone-flagged floor.

In a fraction of a second Hermione reacted and sprang to her feet and made a minor of show of helping Ginny up as if she had fallen or was unwell. She moved them into the nearby pew and fumbled around for a hymn book on the shelf in front, aware all the time that many pairs of eyes had turned to look at the noise they had made, as an organ started up. She took a bewildered Ginny's hand and still made a show of attending her.

"Oh fffu...fiddlesticks!" whispered Hermione. "It's Sunday!"

"So I gathered," Ginny replied drily. "A one in seven chance. Completely roasted _those_ odds."


	5. Chapter 5 Strange Meetings

Chapter Five – "Strange Meetings"

Hermione made a show of singing the current hymn, Ginny copying her. The redhead had a huge urge to burst out laughing and it took all her resolve not to do so.

Everyone sat down again at the end of the hymn, while a vicar stood in the pulpit and began, or continued, a sermon.

"At least we've established it's Sunday," said Ginny in a whisper.

"I suggest we try to leave as soon as it ends."

"I'll be ready."

"Good...but where's the door?"

Ginny subtly glanced back to her right and left. "Looks like there's one to the left and one to right. Hang on, I'll get another glance." She moved her head again. "I think right, I can see a porch beyond; the other one doesn't even look like it opens."

"Follow me, when I start to move," said Hermione.

The vicar droned on for a while yet, using various verses from the Bible to illustrate his point about something he was passionate about, which to the two witches seemed to be about the dangers of drink and all things related to actually having fun. As it seemed things might be coming to an end and Hermione was poised to move from their place, the congregation all knelt in their pews.

Kneeling on provided, though slightly grubby, small cushions each, they also knelt. The prayer also seemed to go on forever.

"If I get bad knees from this and it affects my career, I'll slap that vicar silly!" said Ginny.

This made Hermione snort, which she then converted from laughter into a dry cough.

Finally the droning old clergyman seemed to have reached the end and everyone sat back in the pews. The vicar appeared to be ending his performance and again the two women were preparing for a quick exit, only to be dismayed when he walked down the nave's aisle past them and went out of the door to the right.

Again Hermione and Ginny were prepared to leave, when they realized that the whole congregation were following and seemingly in order of pew, with the front rows filing out first.

"Bad, bad, _bad_ idea," muttered Hermione, wondering if they should have aimed for the churchyard and taken that risk instead.

"Let's keep our heads down, like we're in deep thought," Ginny muttered back.

They were aware of several people looking at them and Hermione raised her head and did acknowledge a few people, trying hard to avoid eye contact, but seemed to get strange curious expressions back.

The first few pews were very well dressed people, or from what they could tell from the feet, skirts and trousers they saw, with their averted gaze, so obviously the local landowners and wealthy residents. The later pews were still smartly dressed but, where velvets and satins had been seen from the front rows, there was more hard-wearing wool and more coarse materials in much more diluted colours. At least their own choice of clothes did indeed look appropriate for the situation and appeared to be nearer to the front pews in class.

Finally it was Ginny and Hermione's turn to leave, right at the back. "Couldn't we just Disapparate?" asked the redhead.

"No, the vicar will expect to see us out, but...," Hermione continued in a quieter whisper "I think we'll be taken for wealthy people, going by the clothing I've seen. That could be good, or bad."

They walked through the large door out into what appeared to be a mild sunny afternoon, and just outside the door was the vicar, to which they hoped they could acknowledge and walk on by, but they must have indeed looked wealthy, or impressive enough, to spark his curiosity.

"Good afternoon ladies, I haven't seen you in our parish before," he said. "Are you calling on family or friends?"

"Passing through, visiting the area," replied Hermione.

The vicar proffered his hand a little half-heartedly which Hermione shook, and then he did the same to Ginny, but he held onto her hand a fraction of a second longer, leaned very slightly forward and sniffed, audibly.

_He thinks she was drunk! _Thought an amused Hermione, but she wasn't going to let him get away with that. "My friend felt unwell earlier, she nearly fainted, had I not caught her as she swooned." _Swooning is like an Olympic sport in these times,_ she thought.

"Unwell?" the vicar asked taking a small step back. "How unwell? Where have you just come from?"

"Not unwell from illness," Hermione tried to explain. "Only a little tiredness."

"You're absolutely sure?" When Hermione nodded he visibly relaxed. "Forgive me, but there's been a lot of..._cholera_," he whispered the last bit. "It spreads so quickly."

"You'll have no worry about that from us," the brunette replied. "My friend was just a little travel weary."

Still wanting to laugh from the tension of being in the current situation, Ginny played along. "I do apologize if we disrupted your service. It _is_ only tiredness."

Hermione was aware that several of the congregation, mostly the more well-to-do people, had not moved away or left the churchyard and were very obviously watching them. She quickly surveyed the people she could see and those leaving, looking for Jane Howard, or anyone that passed a small resemblance.

"Where have you ladies travelled from, if I might be so bold to ask?" the vicar continued.

"Originally from near Bristol, we like to travel a lot, and once passed through here on our way to Leeds," said Hermione, employing their cover story a lot earlier than she had anticipated. "We wanted to stay a few days this time and see a bit more of the area before going north again."

An older well dressed lady, in navy and royal blue approached them. "Forgive me for overhearing, are you staying in Halifax?"

"Well, not yet," said Hermione, deciding on a course of action. "We only recently arrived and thought we would experience the area, authentically. We'll be in Great Hangleton to begin with."

Ginny gave Hermione a very slight side glance while thinking, _'Experience the area authentically'?she's talking absolute tripe...and I'm loving it?! S_he had that little thrill deep inside, of being in potential danger and having to make things up as they went along; it all felt familiar and comfortable in a strange way.

"Really? I didn't think there were any coaches until later today?" queried the old lady.

"We walked," said Ginny.

"Walked? From Bristol?"

"No, of course not," Ginny said with a winning smile. "We were dropped off by some acquaintances near Great Hangleton and couldn't wait to come into town. When we make our mind up to do something, we do it."

"That's a fair walk," the old lady said. "Mind you, young people today! You remind me of my niece in that regard. She was here a moment ago." She turned and beckoned to a dark-haired woman dressed in all black, long floor-length skirt and high collared shirt and jacket, tailored nicely to her waist, who was talking quietly to another lady. The few steps she walked over to her aunt could only have been described as purposeful.

"Yes, Aunt?"

"These two ladies are visiting Halifax, they reminded me of you. Walked in from Great Hangleton."

"Really?" The younger woman had a penetrating gaze, dark eyes almost piercing into their target, and both Ginny and Hermione felt they had been scanned or x-rayed in the glance the woman gave them. She gave almost a satisfied nod as though they had passed some kind of inspection, before saying. "I saw you make an interesting entrance. Where are you staying?"

"The White Hart, or we intend to," said Hermione, wondering who she was talking to and getting a prickling feeling on the back of her neck. "But we may go elsewhere." _Did she see all of our entrance, or does she only mean the part when we made a noise, after arrival? _Hermione wondered.

"Not a bad place, The White Hart, although I've heard the food is a little challenging," the woman replied, her head tilted slightly as she looked at them, then seemed to make a decision. "Has my aunt introduced herself?" When the women both shook they heads, she extended a hand to shake, the vicar almost long forgotten, even though he still stood there. "My aunt is Miss Anne Lister, and I am also Miss Anne Lister, of Shibden Hall."

"Fu...ff..."Hermione began, then coughed, as she realized exactly to whom she was talking to, and the dress and confident manner suddenly all made sense and slotted into place so fast she paused a moment before speaking. _Her surviving portraits were crap and...apparently she went to church on _this_ Sunday! _she thought, unsure how she felt to be meeting the woman she had been reading so much about and had intrigued her and entertained her with her diaries and adventures. She then realized she might have paused a little too long and quickly recovered. "I apologize. I've heard of it. I'm Miss Emma Richmond."

"I'm Miss Eugenia Read," Ginny said, as her hand was gently shaken by the older woman and nearly caught in a vice-like grip by the younger Lister, also thinking that they were probably talking to the woman Hermione had been reading about.

Although Ginny and Hermione were a couple of inches taller than the younger Anne Lister, they both felt as though her presence was a lot taller than her actual frame.

"They came from near Bristol," the aunt told her niece.

"Well, not directly, we have a residence in the Bristol area, but travel a lot," Hermione said.

"Ah, there's nothing like travel," agreed the younger Anne Lister. "Been abroad?"

Hermione thought a fraction of a second and decided to continue with a little truth and see the reaction, while also trying to return the confident eye contact. "Several places in Europe, but also Australia."

"Really?" Anne Lister said, a faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. "A rather unusual destination of choice. It _was _by choice?" she asked with a laugh.

"Yes, no crime was involved," Hermione smiled back. "A long way, but some unique places to see."

"I've heard it said," said Anne.

"That must have been a very long and hard journey?" Aunt Anne asked.

"It went faster than we thought it would," replied Ginny, remembering their journey to find Hermione's parents in 1998, which had only taken a short time by the floo network, not months on a ship.

"Travelling together always makes any journey easier and seem faster," added Hermione, while thinking, almost in a subliminal message. _Yes, we belong to the same club, Anne Lister! _"We both travel very well, nothing much upsets our equilibrium in body or spirit."

"What takes you to such places? Friends? Estate business?" Anne asked.

_You're wondering about our standing, wealth and worth already?! t_hought Hermione amused. She was going to have fun with this, while also nearly telling the truth. "Forgive me, it would be unwise for me to say too much. Our travel is nearly always in relation to _people_...shall we say...whom are higher up...err...what's the word, Gin?"

"Ladder," replied Ginny, instinctively. _What _is_ she talking about now? _ She kept her facial expressions normal.

"Ah, higher up than yourselves?" the younger Anne said, her curiosity so obviously piqued now.

"Higher up than most mere mortals," Hermione said, then gave a conspiratorial little laugh. "And now I have said too much."

"She has a habit of doing that," Ginny said. "She often gets us into hot water." _I haven't seen Hermione like this for ages!_ She thought. _It's like she's competing for house points. Or trying to sell ice to a polar bear!_

"Any man friends or beaus travelling with you?" Anne continued to probe. "Or are they the higher powers."

"No male friends or acquaintances accompanied us, no," Hermione answered with deliberate ambivalence.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if you would like to call on us while staying in the area?" Anne asked, her aunt looking at her niece with initial surprise.

"To visit Shibden Hall?" Hermione enquired, trying to keep excitement from her speech.

"Of course," Anne said, proudly.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"We can be," replied Ginny this time.

"Call tomorrow afternoon, three o'clock." As if making a point Anne pulled out a silver pocket watch from a small pocket in her jacket and flipped open the hunter casing.

"Thank you," said Hermione. "If we can't make it we'll send a note." _If she had a mobile phone she would have marked us in her schedule, s_he thought.

"Lovely to meet new people," said Aunt Anne, genuinely interested.

"A pleasure," said Ginny, nodding to her.

"Yes, a pleasure also," said Anne Lister, still looking at them both as though she might have moved onto cataloguing them. "Well, we must be going."

They watched the older Anne take the younger Anne's arm as they walked away and out of the churchyard.

The vicar moved a step closer again, having never really left the scene. "Will we be seeing you again?"

"We don't know for sure," said Hermione. "We'll probably be mostly in Great Hangleton."

The vicar took his leave and then Ginny and Hermione could finally walk away from the churchyard and out into Halifax.

"That's _her_, isn't it?" said Ginny, keeping her voice low. "If not, then I think you've possibly begun to lose your marbles!"

"It's Anne Lister, yes."

"Yeah, she told us that! They both are. I never asked, is she connected to the Gaunts or Masseys?"

"Not that I know of, but as you know, she's a fairly famous lesbian, who wrote her diaries for years; millions of words, that contained her own code, for the parts she wanted to keep private. Her encounters and courting of women, mostly!"

"I got the gay vibe from her, definitely! There's something sort of unavoidable about her gaze." said Ginny. "A bit stiff and starchy, though. And a handshake like Grawp."

"I got the feeling that her gaydar was actually a real machine and she was scanning us to sort into the correct specimen box." Hermione gave a little laugh. "It's only in the last twenty years or so, in our time, that some of her diaries were printed, including the decoded bits. Those are in the couple of books I have in my bag. She inherited Shibden Hall, but it was always known that she wasn't all that rich, despite acting haughty and superior."

"Why did you tell her about Australia?" asked Ginny, bemused.

"Oh, I was being a bit silly. Anne Lister is always on about her travel and going here and there and seeing the world. I knew she'd never been to Australia, so although it still has 'convict ship' connections to this generation, I still kind of led the game 1-0."

"Seeing your little performance, and now knowing what I know, it's hard to say whether you wanted to punch her or sleep with her?!" Ginny said with a crooked smile.

"Actually, after meeting her, I'm not sure myself!" Hermione grinned. "There's something deeply alluring and disarming about her."

"Yes, well, if she tries it on, she will definitely be missing her arms!"

"Jealous?" Hermione then went silent. "Sorry. Never think that. And what happened to you and Georgie gave me a feeling I wouldn't want to inflict on anyone. I find Anne Lister intriguing and a bit like meeting any famous person, but I wouldn't go further than the intellectual flirting you saw today."

"It's a bit like meeting the Queen for you, isn't it?"

"Maybe...would I elevate her to that level?" pondered Hermione.

"You're having to think about it, so she ranks fairly high," said Ginny with a knowing glance. "Do you think she might be useful for why we're here?"

"Perhaps," said Hermione. "She's pretty organized, so probably knows a lot about the area and people, and if she doesn't she's the sort to find out. I'd like to keep that call tomorrow, just to get a look at Shibden Hall, before her upgrades on the place. I was a bit worried, though."

"About her seeing our entrance?" said Ginny. "I caught that. She said 'saw', not 'heard'"

"It's the sort of thing _she'd_ do; happen to be looking at the exact spot we Apparated to, at that very moment."

"We might find out which it was if we go to tea tomorrow?"

"That's actually making me think she _might_ have seen it," said Hermione. "Very rarely in this era do people of their class invite someone they don't know to 'call' on them for tea. And the Listers were more particular than most. Her aunt was shocked by the offer! We might have had to live nearby for a few weeks or months to get an invite in normal circumstances."

"We'll have to expect anything could be asked or said. By the way, that vicar thought I was drunk!" Ginny said, highly amused. "He actually sniffed me!"

"I noticed! He certainly got his knickers in a knot about whether we might have cholera too!"

"Anyway, I didn't see anyone that looked like Jane in there," said Ginny. "I tried to look over the people leaving to see if someone looked awkward, because we can't rule our polyjuice potion."

"I didn't see anything either."

"Where do we start?"

"Let's have a look around the town, maybe ask at any tavern-like place, particularly ones accustomed to travellers that can spot a new person easily," said Hermione. "Maybe ask after Jane as though she's family we're trying to find, or a friend, at least."

"It might be good to find out the date too, other than it being a Sunday," suggested Ginny. "We know it's the middle of the afternoon now, going by the position of the sun."

They walked into a tavern, one of many that Hermione knew Halifax had at the time, and asked inside if they had seen anyone matching Jane's description. At about the third one they asked at, they saw a newspaper on a table for the Saturday and it said 16 June 1832, so they knew it had to be 17 June now.

The two women had walked a couple of miles or more, crossing the width of Halifax to the outlying parts and so far, the taverns they had asked in, had seen no one of Jane's description. Hermione even tried finding out if there had been any disturbances locally in the past day, and there was nothing that matched the type of thing Hermione and Ginny were looking for.

"Maybe it wasn't Halifax at all," said Ginny, as they began walking back through the town again. "What if Jane played the double bluff and she really did go to 1526?"

"I hope it isn't, but if she's been this driven to do this thing, then I suppose we have to accept that as a possibility. But, she often asked about this part of our travels in 1943; she never seemed that interested by the Tower of London."

"Hmm, and the Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard connection would, or _should,_ have made her interested in that part with that particular chapel and Greyback."

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Unless...she made this her starting point, like we did at the train station back then?"

"If that is so, then perhaps we should get to Great Hangleton, anyway?" suggested Ginny. "She might be eerily following in our footsteps for that part."

"Well, it's a decision, at least."

"Let's Disapparate to Great Hangleton churchyard. It will save time and our feet. Do you remember there was a boundary wall? Aiming for there should be safest."

"As long as it's not the sort of 'safe' we thought Apparating into Halifax church should have been," said Hermione.

They had almost walked back to the Halifax parish church, from where they had started. Walking into the churchyard, keeping an eye out for anyone watching they made their way to some trees and shrubs in one corner.

"I should have bought a lottery ticket," said Ginny suddenly. "Or had an amazing, improbable, accumulator."

"What events?"

"Beating Caerphilly, getting kissed just as a photographer was there, and going to 1832 and bumping into Anne Lister, by nailing a one in seven chance of it being Sunday in there, _and_ that she would be there. That would be good odds. Only _if _it could be explained at the betting shop."

"Haven't we always been good at beating the odds?" said Hermione.

"Now you mention it." They had checked they were alone and unobserved. "I'll take us," said Ginny. "We don't want any splitting up."

She took Hermione's hand and aimed for the corner of Great Hangleton's churchyard, where she knew the boundary wall corner was and hoped there might be some shrubbery to hide them, as in 1943 and 1998.

They arrived in the middle of some bushes, and quickly surveying the scene, saw no one. The church looked almost as it had when they saw it in the two eras before. There were less gravestones and less shrubs in other areas, but nothing much else was different.

Before walking out of the corner bushes, Hermione quickly used her wand to clean them both up, she then looked into her beaded bag and retrieved two large bags, which she turned into two medium-sized old-looking travel trunks.

"Travellers have luggage," said Ginny, nodding. "Visible luggage, at least. I guess we're staying at the White Hart?"

"It's as good a place as any."

The pub looked only slightly different. Instead of the bare beams showing on the outer walls, it had been plastered over and painted in white limewash. The sign was different, painted in an older style and slightly larger.

Hermione, stared up at the large white stag picture. "Let's hope they do still take paying guests."

They walked in, only a few older people were sat at tables drinking ale; the same routine taking place in villages up and down Britain and why most churches had a pub close to it. It was almost a bribe of knowing if a beverage was close by, that any sermon from a boring, monotone vicar was made more bearable by the drink afterwards.

Ginny walked to the smaller bar, behind which was a middle-aged man with greying hair, balding at the front, thickset with a clean apron around his middle, wiping tankards and glasses. "Excuse me, do you have rooms available?"

"Just a moment ladies, I'll get my wife," he put down the glass he was polishing and called through the door behind him. "Polly? A couple of ladies would like a room."

A plump woman, with her dark hair tied up neatly into a bun, a slight touch of grey at the temples, came bustling through. "Ladies, do you require two rooms or are you happy to share?"

"Sharing is fine," said Hermione.

"We have our best room free, a shilling a night or two if you want meals included."

"Two shillings sounds very reasonable, thank you, we'll take that room and the meals, although we may not be here all the time. I'm not sure how long we'll be here, three nights, maybe more, depending on the things we want to do, would that be too much of a bother?"

"Not at all. It's not that busy yet. Later, nearer harvest time, would be another thing. This way, ladies," said Polly, leading them to the familiar hallway at the back and up the stairs they remembered and to the exact room on the top floor. "There's a water closet bathroom the door opposite and the hot tap should work, sorry to say that sometimes it doesn't. If you need anything you can find me or my husband. We're Harry and Polly Jacobs."

"Jacobs?" Hermione said surprised. "Have you always been here?"

"You know the name?" Polly asked.

"I'm sure a family member might have stayed here, many years ago, and the name sounded familiar," Hermione spoke carefully.

"Well, that's not surprising, the 'Hart' has been in Harry's family over a hundred years," Polly explained proudly. "Depending when it was, it could have been his father or grandfather."

"That's nice that it's stayed in the family," Ginny said.

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you get here?" asked Polly.

"We were dropped by acquaintances of ours not far from Halifax and walked." Hermione replied, reversing what they had said at Halifax earlier.

Polly looked surprised. "It must have been hard going with your luggage."

"Not at all," said Hermione. "It's been a lovely day. We love walking too."

"Might I ask," began Ginny. "Has anyone else arrived here today?"

"No, you're the only ones since last Tuesday. Why?"

"We wondered if a friend of ours had come this way," Hermione added. "She must have gone through, or went somewhere else."

"There's been several pony and traps through here, but there always is on a Sunday."

"If you were concerned with us walking, has there been any trouble around here?" wondered Hermione. "We'll probably be walking out a lot, but will have to consider it carefully, if it's not safe."

"You're safe here, ladies, as along as you have the caution you would anywhere else. No, there's been no trouble here, not like some other places with rallies and complaints about this or that these days. Round here it's just the usual arguments over prices and people pulling each other's legs."

"That's good to hear."

"Although..."

"What?" Hermione prompted.

"I'd be careful if you go as far as Little Hangleton. Some funny folk around there. Not like us. Not as friendly."

"We'll remember that, thank you."

"Anyway, if you need anything, come and find me or my husband. Enjoy your stay." Polly left the room and they heard her footsteps become fainter.

"The Jacobs we knew were the same family," said Ginny. "That's spooky!"

"As is sleeping in this exact same room again!"

The large comfortable-looking bed was in nearly the same place. There was a washstand with a pitcher and basin, a small mirror and two bedside cabinets. There was one wardrobe with some hangers. The bed had curtains, much like the Hogwarts ones had, and the curtains at the windows were heavy, hard-wearing material, but not of the blackout style like when they had been there in the 1940s.

"It's a bit like a dream," said Hermione wistfully, then added, "The sharing a bed thing was quite common for women of our class in this era, I remember reading. It wasn't looked at as particularly weird and definitely neither being frugal with money, nor suggestive sexually. I think the Jacobs family line for this pub must have died with Lottie and Alf, as their son was killed too. It makes that even more sad."

"Little Hangleton sounds like an 'interesting' place even at this time," said Ginny. "It will need investigating, as she didn't make it clear if it was 'funny folk' recently, or always been 'funny folk' there."

"I think it will be something to look into tomorrow morning. The rest of today, we should give this village a quick look over, make sure we're not being watched by Jane, or anyone else."

"Lets get out some clothes and transfigure to put in the wardrobe, ready for when we need them," said Ginny, pulling a couple of dress robes from her bag and laying them out on the bed.

Hermione did the same and they spent a small amount of time adjusting the clothing to keep in style with the dresses they wore, with some colour changes of navy and deep maroon and also some options for footwear, with both comfortable boots and shoes, for what they thought they might need. They didn't need to worry too much about coats, and created a couple of smart jackets to wear over the dresses which matched what they had seen in Halifax, by better dressed people.

"At least we can use magic this time," said Ginny, as she hung the dresses in the wardrobe.

"We weren't told we couldn't," Hermione thought. "I don't think Jane would set a ward, do you?"

"Perhaps if we find exactly where she is, we might use caution then, but I can't see why she would ward here," Ginny replied. "And if she has, well we're ready for her. There's no pussy-footing around, we know we can do whatever it takes to bring her back."

"Except killing her," added Hermione.

"Obviously. But putting her into a kind of magical coma would be fine."

"Let's hope it doesn't get that far."

"I'd settle for knowing where the little trouble-making turd is!"

The two women had an early evening meal of roast mutton with potatoes and vegetables, and both quietly acknowledged that, although it wasn't as good as either of their parents' Sunday meals, it was still a lot better than what they had experienced with wartime food in 1943.

The middle of June meant long evenings. Whilst back in their room, following their meal, Hermione brought out a little almanac book and looked at sunset times and although it showed times for London, she knew to add or subtract a few minutes for the further north a town was. The sun wouldn't be setting until at least 9.35pm or more in their time and with no daylight savings it would be nearer 8.35pm here; it still made an evening stroll fairly easy.

Everything about Great Hangleton was still familiar. The same cottages, in slightly more varied shades of outer décor and styles, but there; in that respect it was like the village was in a time warp.

They walked past one or two closed stores, but at the end of the main street, a blacksmith was working in his forge with a younger boy working the bellows. To the side of the building stood a large brown and white shire horse, it's head pushed into a trough eating hay, it's huge feathered feet planted solidly to the ground.

"Horses need shoeing even on a Sunday," said Hermione.

As they walked back up the street, they saw a few people going to the church and Hermione assumed it was for a Sunday evening service and nodded that they should follow.

"Two waffling vicars in one day?!" said Ginny, rhetorically. "I know, we need to see people and get a feel for the atmosphere."

"We'll stay at the back again," said Hermione. "Let's hope we can stay awake."

They settled at the back on the church, one or two villagers looking at them. There weren't as many people in the church as Hermione expected and she assumed the Sunday evening service would always be less well attended than the morning service here.

Throughout the mercifully short service, Hermione and Ginny looked at people, how they were standing or sitting, trying to see if something was out of place, or someone looked more awkward than themselves. However, all looked relaxed and normal.

Thankfully the vicar was polite, but didn't probe them with questions and the rest of the congregation were reservedly curious, meaning they looked but didn't approach.

"I think our good clothes keep a lot away from asking us anything," Hermione observed as they slowly walked back to the White Hart across the street from the church.

"I only saw about two people dressed as well as us," replied Ginny. "Halifax must have a much larger parish, or maybe people that like to flaunt their status more."

On returning to the pub, Polly asked them if they wanted some bread and cheese for supper, which they agreed to and had it brought to their room with some weak ale, which most people drank instead of the more potentially dangerous water of the times.

Both women were feeling tired quite early, so went across the hall to the bathroom and water closet, taking their pitcher to bring back some warm water to wash their faces and hands. They had opted for transfiguring two t-shirts into long night shirts to sleep in that had some lace ties, halfway down the front, so they wouldn't look too strange if they had to answer their door to Polly.

They got into the very comfortable bed, grateful for the summer months not requiring them to deal with the fireplace in the room, and Hermione brought out a book of maps and boundaries. She flipped it open for Halifax.

"So according to this, both Great Hangleton and Shibden Hall are a couple of miles from Halifax with here being south-east and Shibden more north-east. I'm wondering..."

"We ought to perhaps try to get someone to take us to Shibden, rather than Apparate there?" Ginny guessed.

"Yeah. Any tiny suspicions anyone might have will be kept at bay by a normal open journey. I'll ask Polly about it, first thing tomorrow morning." Hermione put the book back in her bag. "We'll Disapparate to Little Hangleton tomorrow morning. That will make that part easier."

The brunette then brought out three books she had on Anne Lister from her beaded bag.

Despite being tired, they both read for about an hour, discussing what they should or shouldn't do if they hoped to make a friend of Anne, for possible information about local goings-on.

"From what I've read, don't be too cocky," Ginny said, as she marked points off on her fingers. "So not too much competing with her this time! Don't have dirty fingernails. Have good manners if you eat or drink. And just don't be vulgar...but most things seem to get that reaction from her."

"I think 'vulgar' was her favourite word," said Hermione.

"She's a bit of a control freak, from what I can tell."

"Very much so, but I suppose someone with her intellect and lifestyle persuasion, in this setting, would want to control as much as they could, to never be hemmed in like most other women. She's very eccentric and is mocked for that, as well as being a bit masculine, but she had to be eccentric to live the life she wanted, or as close to the life she wanted. One thing helped the other, that and being a landowner and not a simple labourer's daughter."

"That Mariana woman she was infatuated with, sounds like a bitch." Ginny almost spat. "She really wanted her cake and to eat it, but never properly committed to Anne, at the several opportunities she had, or made out she _had_ committed, but only until something better came along for her."

"I got that impression too. She wanted everything and made Anne dance around to her whims, but I don't think she ever would have been with Anne, even had her husband dropped dead the next day. She was always too bloody worried with how things might look. 'Oh yes, please fuck me Anne, but I must not be seen in public with you, or have any actual public link with you, if people even so much as imagine things. So when you've finished, perhaps you could leave by the back stairs in the dead of night." Hermione said in a overtly posh accent.

"Different times, probably make it more difficult," observed Ginny.

"That's true, I know, but if you really love someone equally, then you'd be prepared to try anything, even if you risk isolation from your old friends, don't you think? And Anne Lister was going to be inheriting Shibden Hall, _so_ _what_ if no one liked you, your life would be comfortable, and you'd be with the person you love. And Anne would want to travel a lot, so you wouldn't be stuck with the same narrow-minded people. It obviously wasn't enough for her."

"Yeah, however difficult eras have been, true love finds a way. I don't know quite as much about it as you, but from scan reading the main bits just now, what was the issue with her getting with this Ann Walker woman? Why was it seen as worse than Mariana?"

"Some questioned it as Anne Lister taking advantage of a vulnerable woman, with mental health issues, just to get to her money."

"Oh, I see," Ginny nodded. "The Walker woman sounded moody, nervous and open to fantasizing a bit, but not exactly Bellatrix."

"Yeah, if you think about it, Anne Lister didn't act any differently to a guy wanting to make a good marriage, except in this era she treated Ann a lot better than most husbands in the same situation. She certainly never mistreated her physically. And there's another thing," Hermione took a drink of ale. "The diaries are Anne's place to let off steam, so we're reading the worst of her thoughts and frustrations, so it sounds all doom and gloom, but I think she got tired dealing with Ann Walker's moods, let it all out in her diary and was able to get on with things possibly better than described afterwards. It wasn't a truly happy marriage, but how many _are_ that fairytale thing? Everyone has disagreements and moods."

"Yup, even us!" said Ginny, nodding.

"The thing I noticed, which surprised me a little is that, she isn't nearly as masculine as I thought she might be. That's always mentioned about her. All I can see is she's a little butch, but I've seen more butch straight women than her!"

"I suppose it's because she's so different to the monotonously same-looking, boring people around her. I think any little thing that is different would be pounced on here."

"It was said she had a deep voice, but it wasn't that pronounced, a little lower...but it wouldn't...," Hermione chuckled.

"Wouldn't what?" asked Ginny.

"Put me off."

Ginny laughed. "So you _did_ want to punch her _and _sleep with her!?"

"Oh shut up!" Hermione said, but had to laugh. Then she paused before saying. "It's this year that Anne starts to court Ann Walker, if she hasn't already."

"Even more reason for you not to attract the wrong kind of attention from her, we don't want you making history wonky."

"Are you worried? Really?" asked a serious Hermione. "You have to know I wouldn't do that."

"I know," Ginny replied then in a very quiet voice. "But you're just as alluring as that Lister woman. Your beautiful and intelligent and funny and famous, in our own world anyway."

"Then you have to know, it's exactly how I feel about you. And with your sporting fame, I think of all the nerds with your posters on their walls." Hermione gave a little huffy laugh. "I know I'm the luckiest person in the world to be married to you, but a little part of me doesn't like sharing you to someone else's fantasies."

"Then we're both idiots!" said Ginny. "Let's try to stop worrying about potential 'world's best lovers' stealing each other away. At least while we're here."

"I think we'll have to take things as they happen tomorrow, and just keep those points you made in mind. The fingernails and manners stuff."

"The only other things that stuck in my mind were that, she doesn't like to be touched in bed much, is very butch about things like that and..." Ginny started to laugh.

"And what?"

"And...oh gods..." Ginny coughed a couple of times. "And collects pubic hair from her lovers!"

"Oh, trust you to pick out _those_ bits!"

"I didn't, it just happened to be the pages that fell open in two of the books this evening...although she seemed even fussy about that. She appeared to most like her lover to cut a lock themselves to give to her."

"You'd better not think about that when we're there tomorrow," admonished Hermione.

"I'll try, but it's one of those things, that kind of sticks with you. I can't unread what I read!"

Hermione was laughing too, but she pinned Ginny to the bed, then lowered her head to kiss her.

"What the heck does she do with them?" Ginny continued.

"_I_ don't know?!"

"Perhaps she presses them into a book like flowers?"

Hermione kissed Ginny again. "Please stop thinking about it."

"Why? Afraid _you'll_ be thinking about it too?!"

"Yes," answered Hermione. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of...that and making a right tit of ourselves."

"That's always a possibility even in our regular time. We'll just have to see what happens." Ginny started grinning again. "And you know, she has the worst constipation?!"

"It does seem to make a lot of appearances."

"You said that she wrote things in code for her activities with women, but from the excerpts I've seen, she wrote a lot about her bowels, darning stockings and money all in code too. Okay, I can see why the bowels thing might be secret, but darning stockings?"

"I think it goes back to that thing of not actually being very rich," explained Hermione. "People would expect her to buy new, not repair things, or not need to repair things. I think her aunt and uncle used to keep her afloat with cash too until she inherited the estate, and she won't get full and complete ownership until her aunt and father die...which is 1836, if I remember."

"So the watch list should include, not mentioning anything about repairing clothes, then?"

"Sounds sensible not to."

Ginny yawned. "I'm sooo tempted to give her some advice on bowel movements, though."

A smiling Hermione then shared a slow kiss with Ginny, before settling to her side, ready to sleep, her arm draped over the redhead.

**A/N: I picked a week in the diaries of 1832 before Anne starts to properly court Ann Walker. It was also a week where not that much happened _and_ a Sunday where Anne _did_ visit the church in the afternoon. So I manipulated it to what I needed.**

**I have chosen not to write the Yorkshire accent and only use a subtle difference in general speech between classes, with the odd word here and there. I'd hate to insult the Yorkshire side of my family or anyone else born to the accent, with using generalized gaffs. **


	6. Chapter 6 Tension and Teatime

Chapter Six – "Tension and Teatime"

The clip-clop or a horse going past on the road outside woke Ginny, and it took her a moment or two to remember where she was. On seeing the four-poster bed, she thought briefly she was back at Hogwarts, or dreaming she was back there. She sat up quickly and then realized where she was; her sudden movement had woken Hermione beside her. The brunette reached a hand up and brushed back some of her wife's hair over her shoulder, smoothing it back. "Everything okay?" she asked.

Ginny turned and held the hand that had been smoothing her hair. "With you around it always is."

"So, nobody is standing out in the street about to blow up the pub?"

After making a point of looking out of the window, facing the street, Ginny looked back again. "Nope. It was only a horse that woke me. I don't even know what time it is?"

Hermione got her watch from her beaded bag. "6.10am, not as early as I feared."

"I think we should be up a good time to arrange travel to Shibden."

They could already hear a bit of movement downstairs. "I expect a Monday morning is busy for the pub, whatever the time of year," Hermione said.

"I'll go get us some warm water to wash with," Ginny said. "I know we could use the wand method, but I feel like using water today." She got out of bed and picked up the pitcher and basin and went across to the bathroom, to empty them and get fresh. She came back a short time later.

"Was it warm already?" asked Hermione

"No, but we can remedy that," said a smiling Ginny, as she brought out her wand. "Your hot water is ready m'lady." She did a mock curtsy, grinning. "Will m'lady require anything else?"

"A kiss."

"M'lady should know that this poor servant hasn't yet brushed her teeth."

"And a servant should know to obey a command and not make excuses."

Ginny laughed and went over to Hermione, sat next to her on the bed and kissed her.

"Honestly," said an amused Hermione. "It's not like I'm not used to morning breath after all these years..."

"Are you saying...?"

"...NOT that you ever really have any." Hermione kissed Ginny softly again. "We'll have to be prepared for servants at Shibden Hall. I expect they'll answer the door, bring tea and do any other degrading, subservient thing that passes as normal in this era."

"Think of them as house elves," said Ginny.

"That won't help me!"

"Oh, of course, S.P.E.W.!" Ginny laughed. "Well, I'm sure we'll both manage and you won't have an urge to create a trade union society for them on the spot."

"I think perhaps the key is to not converse beyond necessary with anyone, other than Anne, her aunt and if her father or sister is around."

"I'll just imagine the servants all work for the press, that will make me keep my distance."

"Not a bad way to view it," considered Hermione.

The two women got dressed and went down for breakfast, hearing that they could have asked for it to be brought upstairs for them – probably a perk of looking wealthy - but they didn't mind and no one else was in the small dining area. Hermione asked Polly about arranging for transport to get to Shibden Hall for 3pm in the afternoon.

"Shibden Hall?" the landlady asked, wide eyed.

"Yes, Miss Anne Lister invited us to call on her."

"Of course we can arrange something. I'll get our son to pop into Halifax and arrange it this morning."

"It doesn't have to be too grand, as long as it can get us from here to there and maybe wait for us and bring us back," Hermione replied before adding. "Payment isn't a problem either."

"We can't have you going there sitting on a hay bale, can we?" Polly clasped her hands. "Besides the coaching business in Halifax we use will like being on this particular call."

After breakfast and a little tidying up of appearances, Hermione and Ginny left the pub at around 9am to go to Little Hangleton, telling Polly and Harry Jacobs that they hoped to be back for lunch, but might be a little late, as they were going to take a long walk and see some of the countryside.

"Take care ladies," Harry said. "As long as you're back by 2pm, to make your appointment at Shibden. Your transport will be ready a bit before then,

"Thank you," said Ginny as they left the pub. Once outside they crossed the street and made their way towards the church. "Disapparate from the churchyard?"

"Yeah, best place, but where to exactly?"

"Didn't the church in Little Hangleton have a boundary wall on one side of the burial area too, running along the back line of it? Perhaps aim for the corner furthest from the lane that goes past it."

"I'll take us, this time," said Hermione.

Walking into the churchyard of Great Hangleton, they met no one and walked unobserved to the corner where they had arrived the day before. With a little last check around them, Hermione took Ginny's arm and Disapparated, arriving moments later in the corner of Little Hangleton churchyard. Both women immediately looked around them, for any sign of discovery or danger. There didn't appear to be anyone close by, which almost made them breathe out a synchronized relieved breath.

Ginny began to walk to a path that led past the small, squat church, Hermione beside her.

"Where do you think we should aim for?" asked the brunette.

"The Hanged Man, the horrid hovel, or the Riddle house, or what would be their house?" asked Ginny. "I'm not keen on any of them, but we're here to see where the little idiot might have gone."

"Let's see if the hovel is there," said Hermione.

"It's a plan," said a resigned Ginny.

They followed the church pathway, walking at a unhurried ambling pace, as two well dressed women who didn't have to work for a living might walk, and crossed the lane, only having to wait for a man driving a horse and cart to pass by. He lifted his hat in polite acknowledgement and the two women nodded back.

Once on the other side of the road, they followed the same track that had been there in 1943. There were perhaps more trees in the forested area now, but the track leading in was more defined than before and suggested more foot traffic. Hiking along a short way, they found the same small track leading off into the forest; looking around again for anyone that might be observing them, they walked onto the path. Rooks were still in the tops of the trees here, cawing to each other and flapping backwards and forwards.

Hermione felt slightly queasy and unsurprisingly her pulse quickened; but she kept walking slowly, until they were aware of the area ahead opening out into more of a clearing than the overgrown dump they had seen before; they quietly went into the shrubs and crouched to watch for a moment or two. In the middle of the small clearing was a small wooden cabin, and much more a cabin than a hovel, but with a brick chimney. The windows and door looked in better repair and no dead snake was swinging from the door.

As Hermione's heartbeat calmed a little, the door suddenly opened and a man with brown but greying hair curling down to his collar, walked out. He wore clothes in hues of natural linen and brown; his shirt had a round grandad collar, with a brown stock tie around it. He wore a brown waistcoat and brown hard-wearing trousers, with hobnail boots finishing his outfit. On a shoulder he slung a small woven satchel and wandered straight toward them.

Ginny tensed and with great speed cast a barrier charm to hide them and also disguising themselves as the first bit of wildlife she could think of, which would explain any disturbance in the vegetation that the man might have wondered about. He hadn't looked down so didn't see anything. She could feel her partner's terror and continuing to stay crouched, reached for her hand, squeezing it tight. As the man came to the spot they were hiding he stopped, looked around, almost sniffing the air. He reached a hand forward and side to side, as if flapping at a cobweb, then sniffed again. His hand dangling in the area above their heads. "If that's you, you little bugger, I'll tan your hide when I get home later! I'm late already! Bloody kids!" And with that, he walked off, whistling tunelessly.

The women couldn't physically move for a moment, and Ginny kept her eye on the track behind them where the man had gone and Hermione watched the house. As Ginny was about to stand again, Hermione pulled on her arm to stay down.

The door of the cabin opened again and a woman with dark brown hair walked out holding the hand of a dark-haired young boy, maybe aged six or seven years old. Both were dressed in the clothes of a working class labouring family, but cleaner than the people living there a century later. The boy stared right at the place the two women were hiding and laughed.

"Mama, it's so funny, you should look!"

"What now? We don't have time. We're late, we have to get into the village!" the woman replied tiredly, as she made sure she had closed the door properly.

"Oh Mama! Sat like a couple of pixies on a toadstool!"

"Will you stop talking such nonsense. Now, come on!" she tugged on his hand and they walked briskly in the opposite direction.

After a few minutes, when there was no more movement or disturbances, Hermione finally spoke.

"I'm pretty sure they're related to the Gaunts, the same facial markers."

"Not quite as crazy, but a bit rough and ready, and must have magical abilities," Ginny said calmly. "The man sensed our presence, possibly the spell itself. Had we been standing he'd have touched us. And the brat?! He could almost see through the spell."

Hermione couldn't stop a little shiver, as sweat beaded on her forehead and her chest felt constricted. "Urgh! Obviously the man thought it was the little boy, or some other kid playing around, which means..."

"There's definitely magic here, if only in this little family," Ginny finished for her, still holding her hand and willing her to feel calm again.

"Did you do more than hide us?"

"I quickly did a sort of camouflage barrier charm, he probably saw two large ferrets crouching," Ginny said with a grin. "I'm glad the bloke didn't look down, because if it was ferrets, he might have taken more interest: good for going rabbiting with."

"Why ferrets?"

"I don't know, I didn't have time to think and I guess I was thinking we were 'ferreting' around. Anyway, I think you're right about it being Gaunt relations."

"Which means...," an animated Hermione suddenly realized. "They might have the ring and even the locket, right now. Or the man does, anyway."

Ginny groaned. "Would Jane really go for those?"

"She obviously knows about them from the well known history after 1998 and the very little she pieced together from me, but does she need them for whatever she has in mind? Could she link it to thinking they were in the Gaunt family at this time?"

"I hope not."

"I think we should walk the same way as the woman and child, but keep back and hidden if they're dawdling for any reason."

Carefully Ginny removed the charm that had hidden them and they made to walk slowly past the cabin and follow the path that went back to the village and, if it was still the same route, would take them around the back of the main street and out opposite the pub: The Hanged Man.

Hermione felt a little shaky, but felt stronger with each step, though they continued to take their time.

"You okay?" Ginny asked.

"Better now," Hermione sighed. "It's hard to forget what happened here. What happened to me. It sort of came flooding back. Not every day you visit the place you were almost killed."

"I guessed as much." Ginny squeezed her wife's hand again. "That was then, this is now. Might I make a suggestion? We go into the pub and make some vague inquiries."

Hermione nodded, glad of each step taking them further away from the cabin, and they continued walking, with no sign of the woman and child ahead, other than a fresh footprint here or there on the track and newly beaten down bits of grass at the edges, which wasn't necessarily the people they had seen.

A while later they were on the path that swung around the last cottage plot and were facing the pub, again looking much the same as in 1943, but in a slightly better condition and what looked to be a more freshly painted sign, even though it would always be macabre on wording alone.

Trying to breathe as calmly as they could, they walked into the pub; apart from one old man half asleep at a table, no one was in there. Too early for lunches, and a Monday, probably accounted for that, but as soon as they stepped in the man behind the bar stood up straighter and smiled. He was tall and dark haired, a friendly countenance.

"Good morning ma'am, and ma'am," he said bowing his head slightly to both the women in turn. "Would you like some refreshment?"

Ginny desperately wanted to laugh, the tension having built up, making everything a possible source of humour, but she managed to maintain a pleasant expression.

"We've been looking for a friend of ours," began Hermione. "We're staying in the area and hoped to catch up with her, but haven't any idea where she might be staying." She went on to describe Jane.

The man put a hand to his face and scratched lightly at one of his long sideburns.

"I can't say I've seen anyone in the last couple of days, I'll ask my wife." He opened the door behind him and Ginny and Hermione looked past him to the two women in there. One was sitting on a stool writing in a ledger book, the other was the woman they had seen shortly before with the little boy; she wore an apron and there was a large bowl of beer and wine mugs and glasses and dishes she was washing while also keeping an eye on a large copper of water on the boil. Ginny gave an imperceptible elbow to her partner and felt the same nudge back.

The landlord's wife put the ledger down and came through to talk with them.

"I can't say I've seen anyone exactly meeting your friends description," she said in an even voice. "A Monday means a lot of different people are on the move for trade and work, so I couldn't say what might have been through earlier."

"Thank you, anyway," said Hermione, then she asked. "Has there been any trouble around here in the past couple of days?"

The man was standing beside his wife now and gave them a curious look. "Trouble?"

"Something unusual happened, or a stranger causing trouble?" Ginny prompted.

The wife laughed. "This is West Yorkshire ma'am, there's always something unusual happening here!"

The man looked a little more serious. "Forgive my wife. I assume you think your friend might have caused the trouble, or be in trouble? Marcella!" he called through the door to the kitchen. "Could you come here a moment."

The woman from the kitchen dried her hands and walked through, when she saw Hermione and Ginny she looked curiously at them, then a little nervous and was crumpling her apron in her hands. "Yes, sir?"

"These ladies are looking for a friend of theirs, have you seen anyone new in the past couple of days? Or heard of any trouble?"

"No sir, I've just kept my head down and done what I always do," she replied. "I don't talk to strangers, I let people get on with their own doings."

"Thank you Marcella, you may go back to the kitchen," he looked to the two women again. "Sorry we can't be of more help."

"Thank you, all the same," said Hermione, while thinking _You're as helpful as a chocolate teapot! _

"Can I get you some tea or coffee, or my wife makes some lovely refreshing lemonade?" he tried.

"Sorry, but we need to be making our way back," Hermione replied. "If we have time, while in the area, we may call again, and stay for refreshment then."

They were slowly turning round to leave and Hermione paused momentarily to check her beaded bag, which looked like a normal woman's little pouch-like bag and it was long enough to hear something that rooted her to the spot.

The landlady went back into the kitchen and said to Marcella Gaunt, "Where's that little terror Marvelo got to? You did bring him today?"

"Yes, Mrs. Riddle," Marcella replied meekly. "He's polishing all your boots out the back. I told him to make an effort as we were late today."

"Let's hope he _is_ polishing boots and not wandered off again," said the landlady, pinning Marcella with a sour, dissatisfied glare.

Hermione and Ginny tried to stay calm and natural as they left the pub door and walked slowly back down the main street towards the church end of the village.

Once safely away and by themselves they finally spoke. "Well! Bloody fucking hell!?" said Ginny.

"So the Riddles, and yes it has to be the same family...tall, dark-haired...," said a disturbed Hermione, "...they own the pub and the Gaunt woman works for them as a washer woman, general dog's body...thing?!"

"Why isn't the boy in school?"

"It wasn't compulsory at this point, sometimes they would get a Sunday school lesson every week, but it was only those with money who could usually afford to send their kids to proper schools, hence him being a boot polisher and whatever other little errands they send him on."

Ginny looked around them before saying "Marvelo?"

"I know," replied Hermione. "I _know_!"

"What relation to Morfin is he?"

"I don't know for sure. His father was Marvelo, but even allowing for magical longevity, I would guess the kid is a grandfather of Morfin, if not great grandfather."

"It doesn't help us find Jane though, does it?" said a slightly weary Ginny.

"I couldn't work out if they were being eccentric or hiding something."

"Same here. Jane could have been upstairs for all we knew. Although, they didn't look really on edge, like they had someone strange suddenly staying there."

"I suppose we have to assume she's capable of using the _Imperius_ curse and variations of it," Hermione tutted to herself. "Of course, she knew about what we did to Hepzibah, so she might think, in her warped little brain, that it can be used with no problems or repercussions."

"I would think someone using a Time-Turner to change something back in time, isn't too bothered by most repercussions in the first place," suggested Ginny.

"Or so obsessed with something, they can't see clearly _all_ the things at risk."

"I perhaps shouldn't tempt fate, but we haven't seen anything so far, that's out of place," Ginny said, thinking. "And we're still here in the same way, so nothing major has been changed yet."

"I'm not sure anything major can be changed," said Hermione. "I've been wondering that for years. Or maybe, I'm being ridiculously optimistic in thinking she can't cause too much havoc?"

"We never really changed anything major before, only small little things. There's no way to know unless it happens," Ginny answered.

Taking their walking at a slow pace, as they approached the church again, Hermione looked at her watch and saw it was approaching 12pm. "I think we should go back, have lunch and get rested and ready for the afternoon. I'm not sure I can face looking into the Riddle big house after this, and I'm not sure we have time. Besides nothing seems to be out of place...yet."

"Agreed," said Ginny.

They made their way back to the place they had Apparated to and Ginny took them back to Great Hangleton churchyard. They had a simple lunch of bread, cheese, and salad before going back to their room to wash and dress for their visit to Shibden Hall, surprised by how dusty their clothes had become from the morning's excursion.

Once dressed, and checking that their fingernails were spotlessly clean, they sat on the bed and looked at some books Hermione had in her bag. They brought out one on landowners, which Hermione flicked through, she reached publicans and there clearly was the White Hart with Harry Jacobs as the publican and in Little Hangleton, the Hanged Man's landlord was named as Thomas Riddle.

"Why didn't I see that before? When I got that book?"

Ginny looked at the page. "Maybe you weren't so focused on pubs in the area, only the Riddle and Gaunt boundaries and land."

"Maybe," agreed Hermione. "Unless..."

"What?"

"Maybe it's been changed. I didn't see this before. I probably didn't look at Great Hangleton, as it's a few miles from it's smaller sister, but what if Riddle wasn't landlord there originally?" Hermione looked at the date of the lists. "1831. Okay, so maybe it is correct. I think I ought to keep an eye on this book every day, though."

"There's only so much we can do, but it will keep an eye on things," said Ginny.

They then looked at their books on Anne Lister again.

"Everything I've read so far points to her being highly intelligent," said Hermione. "And sort of liking to be the centre of attention for being that."

"As I said before, you must not get so cocky with her as before," cautioned Ginny. "It was fun for a first meeting and got her intrigued, but we're going to _her _domain now."

"I never thought I'd see the day when _you_ caution me on not being too cocky!" Hermione laughed. "We have to think of some small talk we can converse about. Weather, is always a safety net."

"If they ask about fashion, politics or prices of things we'll be lost."

"True. Fashion can be brushed off with a hack at the south being full of strange clothing, northerners always like to compete with London and 'southern softies'" Hermione thought again. "Although Anne goes to London a few times, but it will sound good to put the south down a bit. Politics is a matter of saying, you are not entirely sure of your stance, as it changes so much and should be left to those in better positions to understand it. It's suitably feminine to declare being..."

"...ignorant and thick as two short planks?" offered Ginny, with a crooked smile.

"Yes it is, unfortunately."

"I guess we can brush off the prices thing as always going up and never sure where the extra charges and taxes all go...a mystery, blah blah."

"Yup, that would work too."

"The rest we'll have to wing it as we go along, while remembering the subtle rules of not being cocky or strongly opinionated."

They heard the sound of more than one horse on the street outside. Ginny got up and looked out of the window. "Bloody hell! I think they've sent the coronation coach!"

Hermione jumped up and looked and saw a very expensive-looking coach being pulled by two large black horses with ornately plaited manes.

It was approaching 2pm and they gave themselves another once over, also using a very subtle perfume to emphasize that they were cleaner then the average person at this time. Polly and Harry saw them off at the door, as a groom gave them a hand up in the carriage. Inside the seats were more comfortable then expected. Before closing the door, the groom folded up the retracting steps and as he did so announced that the driver knew the route and time it would take and would get them there punctually early, as expected, before closing the door and getting up on to the back of the carriage.

"Punctually early?" questioned Ginny. "I thought being on time was being on time, but that sounds like you have to be early to be on time."

"Traditional etiquette or some such strange thing," replied Hermione.

As the coach started off at only a gentle trot, Hermione realized why some people got travel sick in coaches, they did indeed bob about on their suspension like a boat in choppy waters. Thankfully neither herself nor Ginny was the sort to get travel sick, except Ginny not being a big fan of airplane travel. Side-Along Apparating was by far worse than this, though.

It was hard not to feel of a privileged class while riding in the carriage and several people along the way stopped and stared at the carriage wondering whom was within. After a short time it got tiresome with both women already used to unwanted attention in their own time period.

The sounds of the horses trotting along was extremely soothing and it wasn't long before less cottages were seen and more dotted farm houses instead and then they took a definite turn onto another lane and very soon Hermione saw the place she had only ever seen in books or on the internet: Shibden Hall.

The images she had seen of it were a bit grander and bigger than what was there, but she knew that it was only in the next few years that changes would be made to the Hall and even the approach to the Hall would be more grand. It was still impressive and had an atmosphere to it, virtually singing out its long history, with parts of it going back to the fifteenth century.

The carriage slowed, the horses walking and then stopped, by what Hermione assumed was the entrance porch. A footman in livery appeared within seconds and the groom on the carriage opened the door and unrolled the steps, helping both herself and Ginny out to the ground. The footman came forward and said to follow him and that he was taking them to the parlour.

The two women felt nervous but almost welcomed that feeling, which was preferable to the mild fear Hermione had experienced in the morning.

They were taken through a beautiful hallway, oak pannelling everywhere, portraits in gilt frames, carved friezes and vases everywhere, along with the usual swords and muskets wall-mounted. They were taken through into the parlour, where comfortable but suitably stylish chairs and cushions were.

"Miss Richmond, Miss Read," said the footman.

Aunt Anne was there and a younger woman, who wasn't Anne Lister. The latter rose and showed them to seats.

The older lady said, "I do apologize that my niece Anne isn't here."

"Never is when she's supposed to be," muttered the younger woman.

"She had to see to an estate matter, but will be back soon."

"If she can be bothered," muttered the younger woman again.

"This is my other niece, Miss Marian Lister," Aunt Anne gestured to the younger, grumbling woman.

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, Ginny nodding to her also.

"We saw your carriage go past, it's impressive," said Marian.

"Yes, we were rather surprised when it arrived to collect us," replied Hermione.

"Looks like a Micklethwaite Brothers' carriage," wondered Aunt Anne.

"We don't know, the landlady at the White Hart in Great Hangleton arranged it for us," said Ginny. "It was a lovely comfortable ride."

After some more pleasantries and tea, served by the footman, there followed the expected weather chat, and they then moved to other more direct things.

"My Aunt tells me you've been to Australia?" Marian asked, looking genuinely interested.

"Yes, about nine years ago," said Hermione.

"I'm sure that wasn't a quite so comfortable journey?"

"It was fine," Hermione replied. "I don't remember the discomfort much now, only the experience of being there."

"You must have been very young," questioned Aunt Anne. "Forgive me for saying, but you don't look very old now."

"Thank you for the compliment," Hermione smiled to evade a direct answer.

"My sister likes to travel," Marian interjected. "She's never been as far as Australia. "

"I would hope she wouldn't," Aunt Anne said, moving a hand to her chest, as if the thought made her feel faint and breathless.

"She could always commit a crime and go that way," Marian said, with a gleeful smile.

"Marian, don't even think of such things." Aunt Anne admonished her niece.

"My sister saying banal, inane things again?!" said a voice behind them, as Anne Lister entered the room, in her trademark black, placing a hat and leather gloves on a sideboard. "At least she's consistent!"

Hermione and Ginny rose from their seats and shook Anne's proffered hand before the woman looked to the hovering footman and gestured to him and took a seat of her own opposite the settle where Hermione and Ginny re-seated themselves.

Anne poured her own tea. Another round of pleasantries about the weather ensued and what The White Hart's standards were like.

"Well, sorry I was late," Anne said, after taking a sip of tea. "Had a bit of trouble with some tenants. Couldn't be left till tomorrow."

"Nothing bad, I hope?" said Aunt Anne.

"Depends on your definition," Anne then looked at Hermione. "You're probably used to tenants being problematic too?"

"Er, neither of us has tenants," replied Hermione, not prepared for that line of questioning at all.

"None? None on your parents' lands?" asked Anne. When she saw the shaking heads, she looked very thoughtful then uttered a "Hmm."

"Is it all sorted out?" asked the aunt.

"Again, depends on your definition," was her niece's answer. "I will probably have to go there again tomorrow, and trust my instructions have been followed." Looking again to her guests. "I hope you have more competent people in your employ than some of the ones I have to deal with."

"We don't employ anyone," said Ginny.

"But you travel, appear to be educated...sorry to be blunt but..."

"None of your business, Anne," said her sister Marian.

"Yes, I'm sure our guests don't want to discuss their arrangements with people they've only just met," said an unsettled Aunt Anne.

"We're not just _people_," said Anne, then shook her head as if it didn't matter. "Forgive me, it isn't my business. I have a curious nature."

Ginny looked to Hermione and gave a tiny nod of _Go for it!_ replied by a similar nod.

"It's fine," said Hermione. "We really don't mind. After all, you hardly know us, you must not think you've invited a pair of fraudulent rogues to share your afternoon."

"Well, quite," said Anne, with a smile, but an air of unease she couldn't completely hide.

"Neither my friend nor I have tenants, nor employees and neither do our parents. We actually work for a living, in a manner of speaking, but not necessarily what you think."

"Good heavens," said Anne, surprised. "You work?! Really? And yet you're educated and you travel a lot, can employ Micklethwaite's best carriage - I saw when I arrived. One has to wonder what work it is?"

"Life must have its mysteries, or so someone told me once," said Hermione.

"As long as it isn't some mysterious _night time_ occupation?!" said Anne, a quirk of a smile balanced with a serious thoughtful edge.

"No," said Hermione. Then she grasped what the Lister woman had been insinuating: prostitution. "No, definitely not."

"I'm intrigued."

"When are you not?" said Marian sarcastically, but looked away again when her older sister gave her a glare.

"Are you involved in cotton?" Aunt Anne asked. "Living near Bristol would have the advantage of being near a big port."

"No, we aren't involved with trades at all," Hermione said, aware from her reading that Anne Lister could be a bit snobbish about where money came from and coming from 'trade', such as cotton, wool or farming was a big turn off for her. She could feel the woman studying her as she was answering her Aunt.

"That's something, at least." said Anne. "But you _are_ both educated?"

"Oh yes," said Ginny, putting her empty tea cup and saucer down on a table next to her. "We were both at school until about eighteen."

"Where?" came the question straight away.

"That is actually delicate information," said Hermione. "It was a very good boarding school, though. The most I can say is that it was specialized and one had to be selected, rather than apply for a place."

At this Anne Lister stood up, a slight twitch of a muscle in her face, which worried Hermione, thinking she might leave in a jealous temper, or something else they hadn't anticipated.

"I wonder if you would both accompany me to the study. I have something I would like to share with you." Anne said.

"Of course," said Hermione.

Aunt Anne stood up and proffered a hand. "Lovely to meet you again."

The same pleasantries were had with Marian before they followed Anne Lister to a different part of the Hall. On entering the oak pannelled room, packed with shelves of old leather bound books and a couple of desks, Anne Lister closed the door behind them and worryingly locked it.

"Please sit," said Anne, gesturing to a couple of chairs, while sitting on a large wooden chair opposite them.

_Are we being interviewed?_ wondered Hermione. _I suppose if Anne Lister _had_ been a serial killer, she left those bits out of her diaries?!_

_Hermione looks nervous,_ thought Ginny. _Not a good sign...just don't think about pubic hair or constipation! _

"What did you want to show us?" asked Hermione.

"What is it your husbands do?" Anne asked, suddenly.

"Husbands?" replied Hermione, a little surprised, not expecting the question. "Er...well, there aren't any husbands"

"Really? Neither of you married, despite the marks on your left ring fingers, where rings have been for a long time," said Anne as she let out a breath. She actually looked a bit uncomfortable.

_How bloody observant is that?!_ thought Hermione, as she looked at her hand. _I wasn't aware any marks even showed!_

"We _are_ married," said Ginny.

"To whom?" said Anne, but didn't let them answer. "What is this about? I don't know what sort of game you're playing. Were you sent from London? From one of my so-called friends? Come to make fun of the 'oddity' at Shibden? Well it can stop now, you can go back and tell whichever one it is that it's failed and I care not for childish games. And what that magician's entrance in the church was all about, I care not either!"

_She looks really tired and annoyed_, thought Ginny, as she watched Anne Lister nearly slump in her chair.

_Shit, she _did_ see us arrive, _thought Hermione.

"No, we've not be sent to play games with you," said Ginny.

"Is that so? Maybe the death, or probable murder, of one of my tenants, was all part of this too? Hmm? You appear from, literally nowhere, one day and a tenant of mine is dead the next?"

"Murder?" Hermione sat forward on her chair. "Today? Near here?"

"Oh, stop the act, please," said Anne, looking down at her hands. "I know when people are hiding something."

"Do you also know when someone is telling the truth?" Hermione asked, which made Anne look up. "We had nothing to do with a death, nor murder. We knew nothing of it until you mentioned it now. That is the truth."

Anne studied Hermione and Ginny a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps. Something is definitely wrong here. If you can't own up to whatever it is, then leave and never let me see you on my land again. Actually, I don't want to see you ever again, anyway. So go."

Ginny looked at Hermione, tilted her head on one side and simply said: "I think we can trust her. And we might need to." And muttered just low enough for only Hermione to hear. "If not, O_bliviate_."

"Trust _me_?" Anne stared at them.

Hermione nodded in agreement to Ginny. "_Can_ we trust you to keep secrets, knowing that what we tell you could place you and your family in danger, if not kept secret?"

"One doesn't hold an estate without knowing how to play _that_ game," Anne answered simply, for once being taken off guard herself.

"Where do we start?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"Probably the first most relevant piece of 'nonsense' to correct first," said Hermione. "We don't have husbands, exactly."

"An arrangement, with male friends?" said Anne, in a disapproving tone. "Those never end well..."

"But we _are_ married...to each other." With very little pause Hermione added, "And I know that concept isn't strange or abhorrent to you." _There_, she thought, _put that in your pipe and smoke it!_

"Have you come from Mrs Lawton, or the Norcliffe's?" Anne asked, her attention completely focused on her guests, though still slightly worried.

"No," replied Hermione. "We've never met any of your family, or friends, until yesterday when you saw us at church. And meeting you was only pure chance."

"And what on earth were you doing there?" Anne still sounded annoyed. "That is not the place for trickery and general offensive, vulgar behaviour."

"What did you see?" asked Ginny.

"I had turned to look at the congregation and you two seemed to appear behind a pew, before you fell over. Almost like you passed through a curtain."

"We did appear," said Hermione. "This is probably going to be one of the hardest parts to understand, but I know if anyone can try to understand and try to make sense of it, then it would be you."

Hermione braced herself, trying to ignore the look of complete incredulity that faced her, while trying to think of the best way to explain their presence and decided to continue and see what happened, while trying to withstand the piercing look that was trained upon her by their host.

"My partner and I are not from here," Hermione began.

"Obviously," said Anne, with as close to an eye roll as an upstanding Yorkshire estate-owning lady in the nineteenth century could achieve.

"We don't just originate from a different part of England, we're from a different time."

"When we left our usual place, it was Monday 19 November 2007," added Ginny, waiting for some explosion of disbelief, or temper from their host.

"Proof?" demanded Anne.

"Proof?" repeated a stunned Hermione. She had been expecting several other reactions, but not such a direct logical step.

"Show her your phone," suggested Ginny. "I know we can't get a signal here, but the rest of it works and photos are on there too."

Hermione delved into her beaded bag and brought out her phone, she flicked it on and the date was a day after they had left, now 20 November. She turned it round and showed it to Anne, whose curiosity was palpable, but still the logical part was in control.

"Whatever that thing is, it shows a printed date. I assume it could show any date you choose," she said, unconvinced.

Hermione opened her photos folder and brought up a photo of herself and Ginny in London, from the summer, dressed in jeans and T-shirts, near the Houses of Parliament, it even had a red double decker bus going past in the background. "This was taken in our timeline, four months ago in London."

Anne sat forward and looked closely, she swallowed hard, a couple of expressions coming and going in her face. One of wonder and then possibly of slight distaste. "How has this captured your likenesses?"

Ginny and Hermione then set to explaining a very basic understanding of photographs, knowing that they wouldn't perhaps be available until the 1840s at the earliest, and how technology had advanced so much and things could be stored on small pieces of equipment. The bus had to be explained and even what the Houses of Parliament buildings were, as Big Ben and the intricate architecture didn't exist until the 1850s and wasn't truly finished until the 1870s.

"If I am to believe this," said Anne carefully. "And I admit, it's sounding more convincing the longer I listen to this absurdness - though, perhaps that is the desired effect - it doesn't explain _how_ you are here?"

"A device and a bit of magic," said Ginny.

"So you _are_ magicians?!"

"No. The term is witches," said Hermione calmly, before quickly adding, "Not in a Macbeth kind of way. Nor in a Matthew Hopkins Witchfinder kind of way. In a completely educated and trained, scientific kind of way. That's the special school we went to. I'm a professor there, now, teaching."

"What we told you about people higher up above us is true. We're working with our government," Ginny said.

"And women can do that, where you are?" Anne asked, intrigued and a little disturbed.

"Women can do anything they set their mind to, but unlike here, we can actually follow our dreams and interests. It's called gender equality. It's taken a long time and it's still far from perfect, and some parts of the world are slower to follow, but we're getting there," Hermione explained. "In the ordinary world, we even had a woman Prime Minister for ten years, from 1979 to 1990."

Anne Lister almost flinched, then quickly asked, "What party?"

Surprised yet again by the tangents that Anne Lister was taking in their conversation, she took a moment to answer. "Conservative, probably mostly called 'Tory' in this era."

"At least it wasn't a Whig!"

"They don't exist anymore," said Hermione.

"That _is_ progress," said Anne with almost a smirk. "Show me something you can do, then?" She was nearly challenging herself still not to believe everything and wanting certain proof.

Hermione then retrieved her wand from her bag and performed some basic levitation and transfiguration spells. Ginny unlocked the door and opened it without leaving her seat.

"By using magic and a device called a Time-Turner we came to this place in time," the redhead said.

"At least you're not political reformers, or cotton mill owners," said Anne, slightly dazed. Then she quickly rattled off some questions about dates of birth and places they had been to, to see if she could catch them out by hesitation or lack of consistency, but her guests answered immediately without conferring or hesitating.

"Along with politics everyone can register to vote when they turn eighteen, regardless of class." Hermione felt amused suddenly. "I know you probably wouldn't like that, though, and would prefer it to be landowners only."

"How would you know what I would or wouldn't like? You speak as though you know me."

_Whoops, I must not reveal too much, _thought Hermione,_ or she might alter the diaries. _

"History remembers you, as it does any person of...worth or...importance. I really can't tell you more about that. I do know you probably consider us as vulgar women."

"I'm not at all certain what I _do_ consider you to be." Anne paused and put a hand to her brow as if feeling a headache. "I can't conclude any other explanation. Which means at least part of what you tell me is indeed true."

"I'm not sure how we can make it any more believable," Hermione said.

The black-clothed woman said resignedly. "I can find no other plausible reason or answer to the things you've presented me with. I assume Australia is true, but you didn't need a ship with your Time-Turner contraption?"

"We used a different form of travel for Australia, but we were there in minutes," said Hermione. "A normal non-magical person can travel there from England in less than twenty-four hours, though."

Anne's eyes narrowed. "How?"

An explanation on flight then ensued, to a basic level, which provoked a few "Good Lord!" replies.

"Oh and France and Belgium can be reached by train in a couple of hours through the Channel Tunnel. The most boring 15 minutes of your life in the tunnel, but still a nice novelty."

"This is all very well, but maybe one should also ask, _why_ you're here?" Anne continued.

Ginny and Hermione then had to explain as clearly and concisely as possible, about why they had travelled back in time and the young woman they sought.

"Which is why we're very interested in the possible murder you mentioned?" stated Hermione.

Anne Lister was quiet a moment, an internal battle being waged with wanting to believe the women were a practical joke sent from her friend Tib Norcliffe, or the actual fact that everything was true, and if it was the latter, it was truly incomprehensible. The things they said, the things they had done, and what people could do. It was too fantastical and detailed to be thought up by the author of some fiction, and Tib certainly didn't have that kind of imagination. She nodded her head, then sat up more straight in her chair, taking a deep breath before speaking.

"One of my tenants, only been there a couple months, apparently came home last night with a woman that wasn't his wife, according to a couple of people who saw him. Their closest neighbour called in on them and was apparently murdered. There was very little blood and no apparent large injury, except from where he fell. At the very least, he was probably punched or pushed, fell and hit his head, but he didn't do that by himself. My suspected tenant, probably the wife, and this other woman all left, leaving most of their belongings and the body. The place was deserted this morning."

"What was the murdered tenant's name?" asked Ginny.

"Riddle," replied Anne. "Terrence Riddle.

"You're sure?" asked Ginny, turning to look at her equally surprised wife.

"I know the names of my own tenants."

"And the missing tenant and wife?" asked Hermione.

"Massey...John Massey."

Hermione and Ginny almost winced.

"That _means_ something to you?" Anne asked warily.

"Yes, I think it might be connected to the woman we're looking for, somehow, though I hope it doesn't," Hermione said, wondering what their next course of action would be, while also dreading that the Massey here could somehow be the one she faced in 1943.

**A/N: Micklethwaite brothers and the carriages are an invention. It's a name that married into the Yorkshire part of my family and sounds bloody wonderful when said in a Yorkshire accent, so I had to at least include the name somewhere.**


	7. Chapter 7 The Agreement

Chapter Seven – "The Agreement"

"It can't be the same Massey, can it?" Ginny asked the question Hermione had asked herself.

"I don't see how, unless he was holed up somewhere and Jane travelled to get him and then travelled back to here. That seems unlikely, because she wouldn't know that connection, as we never released the name, but we'll be on our guard in case. I can't see why she would even look for him. People weren't very imaginative with names, using the same ones through the families, so he might just share the name."

Hermione stood up and walked from one side of the room to the other. "We need to see the crime scene," she said to Ginny.

"And the body, if possible," her wife replied.

"Has someone taken the body?" Hermione asked Anne.

"It is due to be collected for the coroner early this evening."

"So it's still there?" Hermione asked.

"Unless, they came for it earlier than anticipated, yes."

"Good, we need to get over there and look," Hermione decided, then turned to Anne again. "Can you take us?"

"Do I look like a tour guide?!" Anne said indignantly. "I don't..."

"I thought dead bodies and science interested you?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Oh yes," said Ginny, remembering a section from the books. "I thought you would jump at the chance to investigate something like this?"

"Investigate? I'm not a constable, nor a magistrate, and even if I were..."

"Look, either come with us and show us, or tell us where this house is?" asked Hermione.

"No, wait a moment, not the carriage," Ginny said suddenly. "It's too flashy, I think we should Disapparate there."

"True, we don't want to draw any attention to us," Hermione went to one of the desks in the study and fudged through her beaded bag, and brought out one book on boundaries and another on maps of the area. She thumbed through the index and opened to a page showing the Calderdale area and the estate buildings and farmhouses, turning the page showed a more detailed look at the Shibden estate.

Anne Lister was curious; the murder, the so-called witches, the weird tiny bag that couldn't possibly hold the two large books, and the books themselves. She was on her feet before her mind had completely processed it and was next to the brunette looking at a perfect plan of her own estate. At the top of the page it gave the date of 1834.

"Good lord!" she exclaimed. "Well, it's still here in 1834, that will please Marian, no doubt."

The other book Hermione had opened showed ordnance survey maps, with boundaries and track ways and Anne glanced at that too. "And again in 1854. She _will_ be thrilled...though she still won't own any of it, poor old goose."

_And you'll have been dead 14 years by then,_ thought Hermione. It gave her a slight chill up her spine and made her think again of how powerful and sorrowful having knowledge was, sometimes.

"Where is the house or farm where the body is?" Ginny asked, as she stood at Hermione's other side.

"Hmm?" Anne was fascinated by the books and took a moment to reply. "Oh, a couple of miles along that track," she pointed to a trackway that led to a farm north-west of Shibden Hall.

"And where is the man's own house or farm?"

Anne traced a finger along a nearby track. "A few hundred yards away."

"I think we can get there," said Ginny confidently. "We'll be quick, but...Miss Lister, please don't leave this room until we get back. No one must know we've gone anywhere."

"Even without a carriage, is it possible that I could come along?" asked Anne, before adding a rather obvious excuse for her going. "It's my land and my tenant. I really ought to be involved if there's anything else I should know about it."

Ginny looked to Hermione, who nodded. "I know you like to travel Miss Lister, but this mode of transport can leave a person feeling a bit queasy, but it passes very quickly."

"Is someone on guard to stop others going into the house, until the coroner can get there?" asked Hermione,

"Yes, one of the other neighbours, I trust, and helped to piece together the events," replied Anne.

"I think we ought to use a cloaking barrier as soon as we arrive," suggested Ginny. "No questions can be asked if nothing is seen."

"Okay, I'll take us, you do the cloaking charm," said Hermione nodding, before turning to Anne again. "There is one condition."

"What?"

"Please do not write about anything that has happened today in your diary, or anywhere. And you hear of any names unfamiliar to you, do not repeat them or write them down."

"My diary? How would you...?" Anne was bewildered.

"We know you write one, several people here know you write one," Hermione gently put forward, while not admitting to having read any of it.

"No one reads it or has access to them," Anne explained. "Besides I write anything sensitive in crypt hand."

"Any code can be broken," said Hermione sternly, trying not to let Anne know that her code was indeed broken and was open for all to read. "In our time there have been whole sections of secret services, both men and women, doing nothing but breaking codes. Wars have been won from their skills. There will always be people able to break codes. I don't want you to stop writing in your diary, but please do not mention anything about us, or what we do from now until we leave. It threatens our very existence and the lives of many people if you do."

"She's telling the truth again," Ginny added. "If someone between now and when we're born somehow has knowledge of where we have been, or will go, it could mean our lives are at risk, our parents, and any number of events leading up to the time we left to come here."

Anne looked from one woman to the next. Half of her was telling herself she should react to this nonsense by putting them out on the street. The things they had told her, the things they seemed to know about herself. However, the other half saw truth, sincerity, and it intrigued her; the possible danger attached only made it more attractive.

"I agree," Anne said. "Do you need me to swear an oath?"

"No," replied Hermione, then smiled broadly. "I wouldn't really know what to do with one, right now."

"I'll do it anyway," said Anne, as she picked up a small, black leather bound book from a shelf. "I swear on this Holy Bible, that I will not write down anything that happens while you are here, nor after you have gone."

"That solves that," said Hermione, knowing that Anne Lister was a believer and if she swore an oath on the Bible then she meant it.

"Right, I'll hold onto Herm...Emma, and Miss Lister you hold on to my arm," said Ginny nearly messing up the names. "And don't let go under any circumstance until we arrive and tell you that you can."

"Righty-ho," said Anne, with an underlying excitement in her voice.

She linked her arm through Ginny's, holding onto the upper part, and was aware of how lithe and muscular that arm was, compared to any woman she had ever had hold of, other than herself. Close to she was even more aware of how clean both women smelled and how clear their complexions were. There were no scars from pox or other childhood diseases, and near perfect teeth made her envious. As she considered this she suddenly got a sensation of being dragged through a tight tunnel, followed moments later by a popping, cracking noise and feeling her feet touch the ground again. She immediately felt dizzy and nauseous. "I feel... a bit..."

"You can let go, now," said Ginny, having already performed a fast cloaking and silencing charm.

Anne Lister turned and walked to the nearest wall and leaned her forehead against it. "You weren't wrong about the sensation," she said, panting slightly.

"It will pass," said Hermione. "Which room is the body in?"

"Kitchen," Anne let out a breath, pointing behind them. "I really ought to..."

Ginny and Hermione paid no attention and walked through to the next room, which under normal circumstances would have been cosy and in some ways not unlike their Godric's Hollow house. The body was lying on the ground covered with a sheet and, as Anne had said, there was no blood and no smell of blood.

Taking a deep breath Hermione crouched and prepared to pull back the sheet. "This wasn't in the job description."

"When has anything we've ever done like this, ever been in the job description?" said Ginny as she crouched the other side. "You know, you never even discussed danger money or overtime."

"Like I had time to think of the financial stuff and any other crap this might bring?!" then she grinned at her wife. "It's not like you asked either."

"Hmm, right," said Ginny. "Come on then, let's get this nasty bit over with."

Hermione pulled back the sheet. Terrence Riddle had been a middle-aged man, fairly tall, with dark hair and slight greying hair at his temples, of robust build, which would be expected of a person who worked the land at this time. Apart from a deep impact bruise to the side of the head, which looked the main injury, and a lesser one to the cheek and jaw on the same side, which looked like the after impact when hitting the floor, no apparent invasive injury was present.

"I think it's time to use that technique Dumbledore got the house elves to do when you went missing," said Ginny. "At least we should be able to tell if any other magic was performed here."

When Hermione had gone missing, after her duel with John Massey, in 1943, Dumbledore had sent his 'little friends' to search for clues and they were able to detect magical signatures in Great Hangleton churchyard. Once back at Hogwarts for their final year, both of the women were interested in being able to perform that magic themselves and it was passed on to the Ministry too, as a useful bit of magic in any search situations.

Hermione raised her wand and cast wordless magic and then used her wand almost like a scanner. She immediately felt vibrations over the body; she crouched over it again and with a look of distaste on her face, untied a couple of laces at the top of the man's shirt and opened the chest area. There was an area over the centre of the chest like a bad bruise.

"That's where it hit him, that's the cause/curse area," Ginny observed.

"He died from that bruise to the chest?" asked an incredulous Anne Lister, who had now joined them, crouching beside them and peering closely at the dead man's chest. "That's highly improbable, unless if was hard enough to..."

"Not exactly," Hermione, cut in. "It's where a particular curse, called the 'killing curse' hit him. Although, anywhere the curse hits usually kills. A hard blow to that part of the chest can kill on rare occasions, but that's not what happened here."

"And no blood?" asked Anne.

"No, all quite clean, in a way," said the brunette.

"No one thought to look lower than his head; there was no blood to indicate anything injured except his head," said Anne. "What made you think to look?"

"The head injury could have killed him, I'm sure," explained Hermione. "We wanted to rule out magic so we had to be sure. The chest is usually where the curse lands, or is felt most. Although, I'm sure coroners in this era aren't always as thorough, a bit hit and miss. And as it was magical, it will definitely be missed, as they're not always good at proving a head injury was post mortem or not, or if that bruise had the impact to damage the heart."

"The bruise is in the same place I got mine," said Ginny, almost to herself.

"Thank goodness it was a different ending," said Hermione.

"Wait a moment," said Anne to Ginny. "Are you saying you've been attacked by this killing curse?" Ginny nodded. "And you live? How does a killing curse not kill?"

"When the recipient of the curse is luckily wearing an ancient old necklace that protects the wearer." Ginny said.

"Except no one knew that is what it did, until she had been hit with it. The first time, we all thought she was dead," said Hermione, controlling her breathing to steady and not become stressed at the memory. "The second time she had it happen, she sort of knew she'd be fine."

"I hoped," said Ginny, modestly. "Situations sometimes dictate a need to avoid the instinct of self preservation, for the greater good."

Anne and Hermione just stared at Ginny. The former with awe, confusion and wonder, the latter with awe and love.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione stood up and walked slowly across the room. She was near the fireplace, but walked past it. "No floo network here."

"That's a relief," said Ginny.

"No flu?" Anne questioned. "Influenza? I don't quite follow?"

"It's another form of magical transport," explained Ginny, but was saved from trying to say more when Hermione stopped a bit further away, next to a tall dresser that had plates and jugs on its shelves, although nothing had been broken or disturbed.

"Magical signature over here," said Hermione. "If the woman was seen to come here with Massey, she walked here, then this can only be where they Disapparated from to leave. If only we could find out where to."

Ginny quickly pulled the laces on the dead man's shirt to close it up and replaced the sheet over him. "Let's get back before anyone knows we were here."

"Are you all right to travel again?" Hermione asked Anne.

"Oh Lord, that again," the Lister woman, almost grumbled. "Of course I'm all right. All part of life to experience things, even the things that aren't so pleasant and are a touch disturbing."

Hermione walked through to the room they had arrived in, to the exact same place they had Apparated to, and following the same procedure, she took all three of them back to the study at Shibden Hall. Anne Lister collapsed into a chair, panting but then promptly got up and rushed around a bookshelf to throw up into a waste paper bin. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ginny, before calling across the room. "Are you all right, Miss Lister?"

The owner of Shibden Hall, wiped a handkerchief across her mouth, then stood up straight and walked back around the book shelf and sat with all the dignity she could muster back on her chair.

"Yes, don't fuss," she said waving a hand.

"Was it deliberate, or just a coincidence that it was a Riddle?" asked Ginny. "There was no note on the body...I kind of looked in his pockets."

"Might not be able to read, anyway, so that doesn't prove or disprove anything," said Hermione.

"The Riddles were well off, weren't they?" said Ginny. "They had the big manor house, until Voldemort came along, so what is a Riddle doing as a tenant, a working class tenant..."

"How long had Riddle been a tenant of yours?" Hermione asked Anne.

"About two years, I think," replied Anne.

"You think? I thought you knew your estate?" the brunette asked exasperated.

"Now, steady on! I only came back here last month. I leave everything to my steward. I know my estate and the tenants and have seen most of them these past couple of weeks, but that's not to say I know everything about each and every one of them. I'm trying to, but I've only been back a matter of weeks."

"Sorry," apologized Hermione.

"She gets a bit..._focused_...in these situations," explained Ginny, hoping to placate their marginally pissed off host. "She sees a pattern and sort of runs at it full speed."

Anne looked from one woman to the other, then actually smiled. "I've been told I'm just the same sometimes. Marian would say _all_ the time. There again _she_ can't stay focused on anything for longer than a second."

"Either way, I'm sorry," repeated Hermione. "We just need to get on top of this whole thing before any serious damage can be done, if it hasn't been already."

"Might I ask, if you know this woman, as you appear to allude to, that you know her identity?" Anne asked.

"We can't be completely sure yet, but it has to be connected. It seems odd to think of her as a 'woman'. Don't repeat this, but her name is Jane. She was, _is_, a student of mine. In her final year, but..."

"Ohhh, don't you dare blame yourself!" Ginny said waving a finger at her. "I know that look! How could you possibly know she would do this?"

"Teachers are supposed to do that...notice things that are out of place..."

"The only thing out of place, was when they dropped that bloody rafter on your head and it wasn't actually her that time, so, again, I ask, _how_ could you know?" Ginny, still standing, even had a hand on her hip, disgruntled that Hermione should feel at all guilty.

Anne Lister was watching the exchange with a complete whirl of emotions going through her. On the one hand she had never felt more alive than what she had just experienced with these two new acquaintances, and was thirsty for the things they knew, but the other side of her was almost admonishing herself, that she should be feeling insulted, indignant, and getting rid of the problem they posed. Something about them drew her in, and they seemed to know a lot about her, which made her wonder just how history had recorded her. She was enthralled and wanted to learn all she could, yet she also felt she should be much more guarded and revolted by it all. Her inquisitiveness was winning the argument so far.

"So, what will happen to this woman, if you find her?" Anne asked again.

"Take her back to our proper timeline and hand her over to the Ministry...our authorities," Hermione replied.

"If it's murder she'll hang, no doubt," Anne pondered.

"Err, no. Britain hasn't had the death penalty for many years, and neither has the magical world for a while either."

"It hasn't?" asked a very surprised Anne Lister. "They at least flog the bad ones, I hope?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Not any more."

"What the devil do they do with the the scum of the earth?"

"Long imprisonment," said Hermione. "I know it doesn't sound enough for some of the evil that has always existed, but even countries that do still have the death penalty, in our time, it doesn't really serve as any deterrent to murder."

"I think we need to pay the Hanged Man another visit," said Ginny.

"That's going to be difficult," said Hermione. "We were only there this morning."

"The Hanged Man? Little Hangleton?" asked Anne and when the other women nodded. "Good heavens, what made you go there?"

"Prime area of possible disturbance," replied Hermione. "Why?"

"The area is deprived, and depraved!"

"How so?"

"They've always been very strange the people in Little Hangleton and the Hanged Man is nowhere for anyone from outside their area to be seen at," Anne said with disgust.

"You know that a family called Riddle run the pub?" asked Ginny.

"Of course, they have done for a while," said Anne.

"Are they related to our murder victim?"

"The body you saw was the older brother of the Hanged Man landlord, but apparently they weren't on speaking terms, haven't been for a while. No one has any idea how they afford it. They were always labourers and then about six years ago they managed to become landlords of the pub."

"So it's not always been in the Riddle family?"

"I'm not sure, I don't think so."

"What happened to the previous landlords?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know much about them, that's a while back," said Anne. "All I know is that people were surprised when Riddle and his wife moved into the pub. A lot of people said it must be that uncle of his that helped out, but they hadn't been known to visit him, even though he was in the same village."

"What uncle?" asked Hermione.

"Tobias Riddle. He has probably the largest house in that shabby little village," said a condescending Anne. "No one sees him, he invites no one and calls on no one, yet lives in that manor house. Of course the rumour, that followed the one about his nephew managing to own the pub, was that they were going to be the ones to inherit everything the old man has. I wouldn't be surprised. They allow any nonsense to go on with landowning these days."

"I wonder if someone else had the pub?" said Hermione.

"Massey?" asked Ginny.

"Maybe." Hermione tapped a finger on the desk next to the open book of maps. "Somehow it's all connected, but as to the 'why' and 'what', I don't know."

"It still means Little Hangleton again," said Ginny, almost with a groan.

"I'm afraid so."

"It will look very odd if we turn up again today.

"I know," said Hermione, as she put the books back into her beaded bag. "But we shouldn't leave things too long when we have a chance of finding out what's happened; no later than tomorrow morning. I'm sure it will be connected to it. Perhaps..."

"Polyjuice?" wondered Ginny.

"I don't have any, never thought about it. There's no time to brew it, even if I had the ingredients," said a resigned Hermione.

"A glamour, then. But we'll have to dress differently too."

"That might be the best idea."

"I have been known to have them," said Ginny with a grin.

Hermione turned to their host. "Thank you for all your help. It's been wonderful to meet you."

"Wait a moment. You're just going to leave?" Anne sat forward on her chair having almost been a spectator at a tennis match, as the two witches bounced ideas off each other. "You involve me with the murder of my tenant, get more information from me than perhaps I should have wisely said, and you're going to leave?"

"We can't take you to Little Hangleton," said Ginny. "A glamour won't be effective on a muggle...on a non-magical person, and you're too well known. And it's dangerous."

"So that's it? Drink my tea, throw a few books at me with ridiculous dates, take me to a murder scene, then leave like...like..."

"What do you want from us?" asked Hermione.

"To be kept informed, to be involved...on the parts I can be," said Anne; she surprised herself at how she was nearly pleading to be part of their plans. "I have a proposition."

"Which is?" asked a nervous Hermione.

"Come and stay here at Shibden Hall. I'll have a room made up for you."

Ginny actually did have her mouth open slightly, and looked at an equally stunned Hermione. Silence ensued.

"Are you telling me The White Hart can offer a better room and food?" Anne Lister said confidently. "Because they can't. That is a fact. And another fact is that my offer makes complete sense."

"What about your sister and aunt, and father?" asked Hermione.

"You won't have to sleep in the same room as them, if that's what you're worried about!" laughed Anne, she then saw the incredulous looks on her guests faces. Somehow she knew she had to get them to stay. "You'll be able to come and go from your room, or here in the study. I'll tell them you might not be seen much as you like..."

"...to do private embroidery and darning?" suggested Ginny, grinning.

"I do wish you two wouldn't keep pouncing on my sentences!" Anne said, slightly cross.

"Sorry," muttered Ginny.

"It's none of their business what you do here, as my guests. After all it's mostly my house." Anne stopped and looked between the two women, expectantly. "I do all the managing of it."

"It would make things a bit easier, than having to come and go from the pub all the time," considered Hermione. "And we're less likely to be watched or followed here."

"It's okay with me," nodded Ginny.

"We'll accept," said Hermione. "But we'll return to tell the White Hart what we're doing."

"Excellent! That's all settled," said Anne, as she rose to her feet and gave a crooked, knowing, smile. "I'll get a room made up for you, I assume you share?"

Ginny wore a rather amused expression, matched by Hermione wearing a more confused, worried one which made their host laugh, "It's not like I don't know, you told me yourself."

"It's not that," the brunette replied. "It's you admitting to knowing what we are, knowing what we know about you. You're confident about us all speaking...the same language."

Anne paused and studied Hermione almost as piercingly as the first meeting at the church. "I rarely judge a woman wrongly, only what their reactions might be sometimes. When you've admitted to what you both admitted, I presume it safe to let you know I know of my own society and natural inclination."

"Well we know about you," said the brunette softly.

"No doubt someone recorded something wildly exaggerated for posterity," said Anne.

"It's probably best for us not to answer too many direct questions like that. It's not fair on you, nor us and believe me when I say it is not easy for us in this position." Hermione made sure she looked straight back into Anne's face to show her sincerity. The other woman nodded with understanding.

"Glad that's cleared that up, then. A bit clearer than frosted glass, but only just," said Ginny, with a heap of dry humour.

"You might eventually get used to her and her funny humour," said Hermione. "It pops up in the strangest of situations."

"I expect you'll be back in a couple of hours," said Anne going to the door.

"Yes, we have all our belongings apart from some clothes with us," Ginny answered.

"You must travel very light," Anne raised an eyebrow.

Hermione held up her beaded bag for answer and Ginny produced her own enchanted bag.

The carriage drive back to the White Hart seemed faster than when going to Shibden Hall.

"So the really weird stakes just got a whole lot weirder?" said Ginny, as they were bobbed about in the carriage again. "I should have added being invited to stay at Shibden Hall to that accumulator bet."

"I think it's the perfect answer, though," replied her wife.

"Yeah it is."

"It's probably safer for us...but maybe not for them," pondered Hermione. "It will be hard for anyone to get to us easily there and even though it will be known that's where we went to, it's harder for people to snoop. We can always lay a few protective charms around the Hall while we're there too, if we suspect any danger."

"The funny thing is," said Ginny. "It's hard not to be drawn to her...Anne Lister. She's kind of intriguing before she even speaks. It's so much more than gaydar."

"I think women around her, in this era, even the bitchy ones, probably can't decide if they want to be like her or get into bed with her," Hermione chuckled. "Then they get really annoyed that they can't do either so act like bitches. And the men...probably the exact same two issues, laced with a lot of jealousy and sexist rubbish."

"I'm sure that about sums it up."

It didn't take long to pack the few items of clothing into the trunks they had left behind. They quietly told Polly about their extended invite to Shibden Hall, which seemed to surprise her a great deal.

"You girls be careful," Polly said, with a look, as Hermione paid the carriage bill to their landlady.

Hermione knew from the look, that Polly was considering that the two women would become corrupted by Anne Lister's 'ways' if they weren't careful, and could only just stop herself from laughing. "We will. We'll only be there a night, maybe two at the most," she said "Then we must move on again. But you'll keep our destination private, won't you?"

"Of course."

Ginny and Hermione had agreed on what was to be said, knowing that their destination would get out eventually, but hopefully not that fast, and certainly not before they had left the pub and were back in the carriage again.

They arrived back at Shibden and were greeted by the footman, followed by Anne Lister. The footman took their two trunks and carried them upstairs to their room.

"I've put you in the Red Room," Anne said. "I think you'll be comfortable there."

"Thank you for this," said Hermione.

"My Aunt was asking after you, would you have dinner with us in a little while?"

"Of course." Although Hermione had readily accepted she already felt a bit nervous with which direction the small talk would go.

Anne must have seen a look pass across her guests faces. "Don't worry, it won't last too long, and then perhaps you can come with me to the study and have a drink before bed."

"That's sounds good," Hermione replied.

Walking ahead, Anne personally showed them to their room, with a spacious four poster bed, chairs and a dressing table with mirror, and a pitcher and wash basin on a wash stand. She saw the two trunks and was surprised.

"I thought you meant you had everything in those amazing little bags of yours?"

"We do, but for appearance sake women of our station have to appear to have travel baggage."

"Except we weren't exactly sure which station we would appear to be until we started to meet people." Ginny smiled. "Had we been more ordinary then we wouldn't be speaking to you now. We thought we knew how to dress properly, but it was never completely certain until we got here."

"Is it less certain where you come from?" Anne asked, with keen interest.

"There isn't so much of a class system," said Hermione, trying to think of way to explain it, when she wasn't totally sure herself. "I mean, there are definite differences between people with money and people without it, it's just not always obvious when looking at someone, what their financial status might be. Millionaires can dress like tramps and people on low pay can wear clothes that look a lot more expensive than they are. Basically, anything goes."

"It sounds incredibly...confusing..," Anne tailed off in deep thought. She then brought out her pocket watch before saying. "Dinner will be in half an hour."

A while after Anne's footsteps had retreated back downstairs Ginny said. "Woo, she really doesn't like the thought of no overt class system."

"I think a lot of things would be a shock to her about our time," replied Hermione, as she opened her phone and changed the time on it to the same as her watch. "And from what I've read, she probably wouldn't like much of it at all."

"I hope we never have to explain the Spice Girls to her!" said Ginny, laughing.

This made Hermione laugh too. "I hope we don't have to explain them to anyone, _ever_!"

Dinner was a very pleasant affair with conversation about the area and about the age of Shibden Hall. Aunt Anne seemed like a genuinely nice old lady. Anne's father was a bit quiet and seemed half asleep but that meant conversation with him remained limited, and not a bad thing. Marian was very different from her older sister, definitely not as intelligent or witty, but the two witches had met worse people in their time.

"When Anne told us you were going to stay, it was a lovely surprise," said Marian. "We haven't had guests for a time and no new interesting ones."

"Oh, you mean ones that are actually interested in you?" said Anne scathingly. "Well those are very thin on the ground these days."

Marian shot her sister a look that was just below an outburst of temper, but she managed to control herself. "We hope you like your room. The Red Room is usually comfortable."

"It looks lovely, thank you," answered Hermione, as she drank her after dinner coffee.

"We used to make it up for Mrs. Lawton," Marian continued, then muttered while looking directly at Anne. "Not that she ever used it while here."

"Excuse me for asking," Hermione spoke, although knowing the answer already, but looking for a way to calm the dinner table atmosphere. "Were there any other siblings?"

"Yes," Aunt Anne answered first. "Four brothers, sadly two died in infancy, one not much older and then Samuel. He sadly drowned while serving in the army in Ireland."

"I'm so sorry," said Hermione. "I hope I haven't made everyone sad?"

"It's life," said Anne, "And where there is life there is death. Have you any siblings?"

"I'm an only child," said the brunette.

"I have five older brothers," said Ginny.

"Five?" Aunt Anne, was wide-eyed. "Are they all...still with us?"

"Yes, but a sixth one did die," said Ginny with a smile. "And every one of them, annoying. So completely normal brothers,"

"I bet you wished for a sister?" asked Marian, then mumbled. "Unless she's like mine."

"A little," replied the redhead before nearly messing up the names again. "Thankfully I met Herm...Emma, when I was nine or ten and we've been best friends from then."

"Oh, that's nice," said Marian.

Anne Lister put down her coffee cup and stood up. "If we've all finished, I'd like to talk with my guests about some books." She ushered a grateful Hermione and Ginny through a hallway towards the study. She locked the door behind them. "I know it doesn't keep you in, but it keeps that lot out."

"Your sister isn't all bad," said Ginny.

"We're talking about Marian, that woman that sat through there during dinner, prattling on?!" Anne said sardonically.

"She isn't bad," said Hermione. "I think she looks up to you as well. There's just this sibling code of conduct, which makes you both spit fire at each other."

"This coming from an only child," Anne pointed out drily.

"A person can observe, and I've had to do a lot of that over the years."

"She sort of briefly dated...went out...with one of my brothers," said Ginny. "And since our...togetherness...she knows what having siblings is like from that alone."

Anne Lister's eyebrows shot up. "You courted one of her brothers? _Really?_"

"Not something I'm proud of, but I chose correctly in the end," Hermione said with a warm smile at her wife.

Indicating to a decanter of wine to which the two witches nodded, Anne poured out three glasses of red wine. "You said you were married, what did you mean by that?"

"Married. We had a ceremony," said Ginny.

"With other people there? Officially?"

"Of course," said Hermione. "Our family and friends were there."

"And...that's legal, where you are from?" Anne was completely engrossed in the conversation.

"It always has been in the magical world, but a couple of years after we married, the ordinary world brought in civil partnerships, which is basically marriage. I think the full church type of marriage will be passed in law fairly soon, though."

"I'm having difficulty imagining that...that other people would be there to witness it...let alone agree to it..."

"Revealing that Ginny and I were together wasn't easy," said Hermione. "We were still quite young...and following on from a pretty strange and weird time in the magical world, where everyone was sort of at war. With time, though, people accepted it."

"It's astounding to me..."

"I know. Where we come from lesbians...two women in a relationship..." Hermione explained, knowing that the word lesbian wasn't that commonly used in this time period and not specifically for the situation it described in modern times. "...has never been illegal in this country. However, it's only been more accepted in the last twenty years or so. To be open about it."

"Lesbian? Lesbian...connected to Sappho?" Anne inquired.

"Yes, That is the origin."

"If you don't have the death penalty, what happens to the men in your time?" Anne asked.

"Oh, that's all legal too now, and men can be with men too, with the same rights as lesbians. After a long fight, people are beginning to more readily accept that love is love, no matter whom it is between. In most of the western world, at least. And even those that grumble can't change official policy now."

"Might I ask something very personal?" Anne ventured.

"Ask away," said Hermione.

"Which of you has...which...one of you has management of your affairs?"

"We both do," Ginny answered this. "We're equals, so we work together."

"Is that a condition of the law?"

"No," said Hermione, she knew that Anne preferred to take on the old fashioned role of a husband in all ways and tried to explain. "Not many women would choose to be ruled by even a husband, but it's up to everyone as to what they want in a relationship. Ginny earns much more than me, but we're still equal on the things we do. We started our relationship equal and have remained so."

"Emma and Eugenia are not your real names, are they?" Anne was running her finger around the rim of her wine glass as she watched her guests faces.

"No,"

"It's because I'm out of practice at undercover work," said Ginny, looking guilty.

"Not enough for anyone to really notice," said Hermione. "Other than a very observant person, which Miss Lister is."

"What are your real names?"

"It's best if we don't say," said Hermione. "You might never knowingly mention them, but any chance that our names are recorded somewhere before our own time, could be very dangerous to us, our families and to even more people. All I can say is Ginny is the same nickname in both worlds but for entirely different names."

"What is it, that you really do?" said Anne, putting her glass down.

"I'm a professor, as I said before," answered Hermione. "Ginny is a professional sportswoman."

Anne Lister sat forward on her chair and looked at Ginny, piercingly so. "Sport? What sport?"

"It's..." Ginny began, before looking to Hermione. "How the hell do I explain quidditch?!"

"She plays quidditch, a magical sport...and plays for a professional team," Hermione then got her phone from her bag.

"You're not going to..." Ginny groaned.

"Well, seeing is believing," said Hermione, as she went over to Anne, swiped through her files and got to several seconds of footage she had taken of Ginny against the Chudley Cannons in a match earlier in the season. "This is the bit where they try to foul her, and she brushes them off, catches the quaffle...the ball...and goes and scores a goal."

Anne Lister was mesmerized by many things in those moments. She couldn't even begin to understand how a little thing, as small as Hermione's phone, could show moving pictures, and that was before she was witnessing men and women riding on broomsticks, in mid air, at speed.

"She's brilliant," said Hermione. "I have to share her with her adoring public most Saturdays in the quidditch season."

"That explains the physique," said Anne, a little dazed. "It's about the only thing that makes sense from the past couple of minutes."

"One thing you might learn from being around Emma," Ginny said, pleased to have got the name right. "Never ask a question if you're not prepared for _any_ possible answer."

"To witness so many things this past day and hear so many other things," Anne began, sighing before continuing. "It is hard for one not to feel...inadequate."

"Inadequate is one thing that you most definitely are not!" said an adamant Hermione.

"Sweet of you to say, but we are as children in the face of what I have learned from you." Anne took a final sip of her wine. "I'm not entirely sure how to face that."

"You don't have to face it," said Ginny. "Unless...if you would prefer we stayed somewhere else now, we would understand. It's not easy to accept so much information..."

"No, stay...please stay," said Anne. "But I'm a little tired. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

"Sleep well, Miss Lister," said Hermione.

"Please, call me Anne," said their host wistfully, as she unlocked the door and left. "If you need anything one of the servants will help."

Back in the Red Room, Hermione and Ginny were a little quiet. They cast a silencing charm on the room and locked the door too.

"I think we might have gone too far with the information," said Ginny, sadly. "I think it was too much."

"I know," Hermione replied.

"You're still almost competing with her at times, you know that?"

"I'm not trying to. I mostly feel..."

"What?"

"I'm saddened by what I know about her. All she wants is the freedom to love someone and be loved in return, and that being a woman. She wants to share her life with someone. Yes, she does get that in the end, but it's not the happiest of relationships at all."

"People don't always get all the things they want."

"I know, but it's hard when you know the story about someone and you're there before it's played out. And you can't do a thing to reassure them...well, not much, anyway."

Ginny looked at her watch it was only 8.45pm. "Do you fancy a sneak around Little Hangleton, now? It will still be dusky for a little while."

"I know that should scare the shit out of me, but yeah, why not," Hermione replied. "Let's do a quick glamour. Any idea where we should aim for?"

"The church end of the village, see if there are any lights on at the big house. But wait one moment..." Ginny leaned in and kissed her partner on the lips. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." She then leaned in a stole a kiss of her own. She then brought out the landowning book from earlier and checked the names. "Still the same, thankfully."

It only took a few minutes to finalize their glamours to alter their appearance. Ginny opted for a medium shade of brown hair, Hermione made her own a little darker than usual. They opted for working class clothing in browns and natural colours. They looked in the mirror in their room and were satisfied that they had altered their facial features enough to look very nondescript; the sort of people that couldn't be picked out again and looked liked they belonged wherever they happened to be.

In moments they were in Little Hangleton churchyard. No one was near to the church and it was only when they began to walk along the path that they were disturbed by a horse and cart trundling by, the driver taking no notice of them, his cart full of sacks.

They walked further along, towards the edge of the village, where the large Riddle house was. The hedgerows were overgrown and thick with flowers and other plants and as they neared the boundary of the house, they could look through holes in the hedge where it had been cut and was being trained to grow and twist sideways to create a better boundary hedge.

The house didn't appear to have any movement outside it; had it been a rainy, grey, dark day it would have looked like a menacing building full of foreboding, but in the summer evening it looked like the spacious country home it was.

"There!" Ginny suddenly said. "Top right window, the curtains closed."

"Which tells us someone is there," Hermione said in a flat, dry tone.

"Thank you brain of Britain?!" Ginny said sarcastically.

"I'm not sure what information we can gather from curtains closing," said Hermione. "It depends on the method of how the curtains were closed. Roughly? Carefully? Tugged and fudged from a bad curtain rail?"

"Now you're just taking the pee!"

"Sorry, ever since I got with you, your family's brand of humour seems to have infected me." Hermione stopped grinning. "I am sorry. I don't know if there's a way to find out more, without getting dangerously close to the house to be seen."

"Let's walk to the other end of the village, then by the time we come back it might be a bit darker and give us an idea of any lights that appear."

Hermione picked up a couple of loose branches from the hedge and looking around her to see they weren't overlooked; she transfigured the branches into a small basket, picked up some grass and transfigured that into wild garlic and radishes and a couple of wild strawberries.

"Ah, an excuse for a couple of working class women wandering around," Ginny nodded.

"Just in case."

The women kept their heads down and walked down the street. They only saw about two people walking in the street, probably from the pub, and no one paid any attention to them. As they passed the cottages on either side, the smell of food and smoke drifted on the air, into a summer evening with very little breeze.

"We don't go in the pub," Hermione said.

"So where do we go?"

"Beyond it. There's some fields out there, if I remember."

They passed the pub and cooking, beer and tobacco smoke smells greeted them, as they walked past the door, only giving it a small glance, seeing a few working men in there. They did see the landlord, whom they knew to be Thomas Riddle, and Hermione quickly looked away when she saw what looked to be the Gaunt man they had seen earlier that morning, when they had had to hide under a charm. From the side glance, Hermione saw he was leaning on the bar with an empty beer tankard next to him and he was pointing and tapping his finger on the bar surface and gesticulating.

"Quick down here," Hermione said, dragging Ginny with her down the side of the pub where there was a small access lane. There was a large window from the main bar room that faced onto the lane, and with a quick look around Hermione crouched under the window, her wife following her actions.

She then fished out from her bag a set of earphones she used with her ipod and with wordless magic slotted the plug into a gap between the window frame and the wall and gave Ginny one earphone while she had the other. It magnified the sound within; something she had devised, thinking on how simple it could be. She wondered if there would be too much ambient sound from the rest of the customers, but the conversation at the bar was loud enough for all to hear.

"...it's none of your business!"

"Having you pass out on the floor, is my business! You've had enough."

"Me a paying customer. You've got a bloody cheek! You weren't nowt but a streak of piss till you come here." It was obvious that Gaunt was drunk and Riddle didn't want to serve him.

"Come on fella, get on home to you wife," Riddle said, trying to be friendly.

"That's not your business either!"

"You've got a son to think of too, I don't want your missus having to work longer hours here to pay for your drink," Riddle said sternly.

"You leave my bloody wife out of it! She won't be paying for my drink, I got a pay rise."

"For shovelling leaves around for eight hours a day? Pull the other one, Morten!"

"Big man himself spoke to me this morning: _'Gaunt'_ he says _'have another shilling a day'._" Gaunt then belched, which made Ginny and Hermione recoil from their earphones. "_'Thank you muchly, sir'_ says I."

"My uncle spoke to you?"

"He likes me better than you!" Gaunt then laughed a wheezing laugh.

"Get on home, Morten," said Riddle. "Come on, there's always tomorrow. No need to spend it all now."

"Jealous?" Gaunt said, like a child in the playground.

"Not particularly," said Riddle. "If you're talking to the old sod, then good for you, but let's keep this place friendly for everyone, eh?"

There was a pause, and Hermione almost wanted to pop her head up to see what was happening.

"I'm going," Gaunt said. "Only because my old woman will be coming to look for me if I don't. And she's here enough hours as it is for the breadcrumbs you pay her!"

"Goodnight, Morten," Riddle said.

There was a scuffing noise and then they heard someone walking into the street, dragging their boots, that became fainter.

Hermione put the earphones back into her beaded bag.

"So from that, we know that Gaunt bloke works for the uncle, which must be at the house," said Ginny, almost whispering.

"And probably a gardener or handyman," said Hermione. "Although, I can't imagine he's handy at anything, except for drinking and he seems to be crap at that!"

"Riddle definitely doesn't seem to get on with, or like, his uncle and isn't too bothered by Gaunt getting a pay rise."

"A shilling a day extra is a huge pay rise for a gardener," said Hermione.

It was almost dark now, with the time spent walking to this end of the village and then listening to the conversation.

They both returned to the lane and walked back through the village towards the big house again. As they approached the hedgerow they could see a flickering light in three windows; two upstairs including a faint light behind the 'closed curtains' room and more light in a larger downstairs window. They crouched and peered through the hedge and Hermione went rigid. She had seen movement of a person past the window upstairs and two people downstairs.

Not wanting to risk anything further she said, "Let's move straight on and leave from behind one of the trees ahead. Ginny nodded, and they slowly walked on past the boundary of the house and a couple of hundred yards further to a clump of trees, where Ginny took them back to their room at Shibden.

"Three people in the house," said Hermione. "Three we could see the presence of, anyway."

"Could be a butler, maid and the uncle, or any combination of servants," suggested Ginny.

"It could be...," Hermione was thinking hard when there was a knock at the door.

Ginny went to answer it and it was Anne Lister.

"What the...? Who are...?"

"Come in," Hermione waved. "It's still us."

"Bugger, we forgot about the glamour," said Ginny, as she removed her charm and Hermione removed hers.

Anne stood back from them the whole time, cautiously, watching the two women very carefully as their features blurred and went back to the faces she recognized.

"We went to Little Hangleton," whispered Hermione, she then flicked at the door to put a silencing charm on the room. "But we couldn't be ourselves."

Ginny then flicked her wand and their clothes changed back to what they had been wearing earlier. Anne was still standing in the same place with a look of uncertainty, then looked down at the basket Hermione had next to her.

"So when you spy on people you pick wild fruit and vegetables?" Anne asked bemused.

Ginny laughed. "It's all part of the act."

"Yeah," Hermione was smiling. "No one takes too much notice of a couple of working class women with a basket of hedgerow stuff."

Anne did visibly relax more. "I'm sorry, you completely surprised me. I knocked earlier and when I got no answer I thought you were asleep, then I heard a lumping noise just now."

"That would be us getting back," said Hermione. "Sorry if we disturbed you or worried you."

"Any answers in Little Hangleton?" asked Anne, interested.

"Only the kind that raised a lot more questions," replied Ginny, then paused, looking at their host. "Are you all right? You seemed tired before. You don't have to be involved if you don't want to be."

"I just needed a little time to myself, but I'm fine," replied Anne. "And I do want to be involved.

They told Anne a brief account of their evening observations and what they'd overheard.  
"You heard that Gaunt chap, say he was given a rise of a shilling a day?" Anne asked.

"I'm guessing that it's not the usual?" wondered Hermione.

"Not usual at all, not for unskilled labour, and the sort of work Gaunt would be doing isn't likely to excite any botanists."

"He wasn't even skilled at drinking," said Ginny.

"If he's telling the truth, why would you give a gardener a pay rise that big?" asked Hermione.

"Perhaps if there had been an injury that wasn't his fault, or extra work he undertook; I can't think of what else," Anne answered.

"What if he saw something, or someone?" said Ginny. "What if it's 'shut up and look the other way' money?"

"You think Jane is there, or the Massey guy?" Hermione asked

"It's possible," said Ginny.

"Why would she be with Riddle?" Hermione wondered. "Or Massey? And although Voldemort was a Riddle he was more a Gaunt and worked with Massey to look out for Morfin Gaunt, not to look out for his father's Riddle family?"

"Riddle sounds like a suitable name," said Anne Lister, not grasping the conversation connections.

"At the moment it's all a bloody riddle," said Ginny. "And we're no bloody closer to finding Jane with any certainty."

"Err, sorry for my partner's language," Hermione said, noticing that Anne had looked more than surprised when hearing Ginny rant.

"Don't mind me. I'm not used to hearing it from ladies," their new friend said.

"I'm sure that's not the usual thing either," said Hermione. "It's a very good for letting off steam; have a good swear and it all feels better."

"I tend to write in my diary to do that," said Anne with a smile.

"Well, if you're around Ginny too long, you'll get a whole new vocabulary!" said Hermione, knowing full well that Anne wasn't beyond using the 'f' word in her diary once or twice.

"You swear like a wagon driver too, little Miss Goody-two-shoes!" Ginny aimed at her wife.

"No I don't!" then Hermione gave a crooked smile. "I'm not supposed to around the students, of course, but sometimes, urgh, it's hard to hold back."

"Anyway, what are we to do next?" asked Ginny. "Go back in disguise, or as ourselves?"

"Probably disguise, as we're surely known to be staying here now. We haven't seen anyone of...of a better class there, in two visits."

"I told you it was a grotty little place," said Anne.

"Let's sleep on it, and see what the morning brings," said Hermione.

"That sounds like a very good idea," said Anne. "A good sleep can put everything back into order again."

"Once more, we're sorry to have worried you earlier," said Hermione.

"No matter, I know that you have a lot do and must work fast on this...this case." Anne walked back to the door. "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well, ladies."

"You too," said Ginny.

Hermione then set a locking charm after the door had closed.

They got ready for the night and got into the gorgeously soft bed. Ginny immediately wrapped her arms around Hermione. "We have so much to do here."

Hermione moved to look into Ginny's eyes. "I know," she pressed her lips to Ginny's, holding her to her as their kiss deepened, only stopping when Hermione chuckled into the kiss.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"It's silly..."

"What is?"

"I really want to make love with you here," said Hermione, whispering even though she knew they had used a silencing charm. "It's sort of thrilling being here in this house, along the hallway from Anne Lister and wanting you here and now. If you're too tired, I'll understand."

Ginny ran a hand down Hermione's back, to her side and then flipped them so she was on top and slowly moved her hand underneath the nightshirt between her wife's legs. Both gasped a little on the contact. "You _do_ want to, don't you?" she laughed feeling the moistness against her fingers.

Hermione put a hand around Ginny's neck and brought her down for a kiss as her wife gently entered her with two fingers, building up the pace slowly, while keeping her thumb on Hermione's clit, swallowing her moans in their kisses.

In their familiar rhythm and attuned reactions to each other it wasn't long before Hermione put her head back and moaned as her inner walls gripped Ginny's fingers. As she was coming down from her climax she put a hand between them and entered Ginny whose body made Hermione very clear how much it wanted her.

Ginny rocked her hips against Hermione's hand, and as she felt herself going over the abyss she leaned down and kissed Hermione hard, moaning against her lips as her lower half shook. Her hips continued to buck slightly with after shocks, as she settled down beside her wife, who put her arm around her, kissing her forehead and cheek.

Some time later Ginny actually yawned. "I suppose that ticks a lot of boxes."

"For what?" was her partner's reply.

"Had sex in the 1830s, at Shibden Hall, down the hall from a very living and breathing Anne Lister."

Hermione burst out laughing. "I wasn't even aware it was on my bucket list till you just stated that fact."

"I wonder...if she knew, would she be that pleased?" Ginny added.

"She offered the room to share and nearly hinted everything bar winking and nudging!"

"Yeah, but I still think she'd be a bit..."

"Jealous?" offered Hermione.

"Maybe that would be part of it."

"Soo glad about the silencing and locking charms," the brunette said.

"Would you like her to watch?"

"What?!" Hermione nearly choked.

"I only wondered."

"I don't know...I've never been an exhibitionist, besides," said Hermione seriously. "She'd probably think it 'vulgar'."

"She really likes you," said Ginny.

"Err, she likes you! She noticed your physique!"

"I think she was just weighing up the competition."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Hermione. "Even if she was thinking that, and yes, I know lesbians are always fantasizing, but she is so not my type! And I'm not really her type...she likes pretty, docile..."

"Intelligent, eccentric..."

"And she's incredibly butch in manner and doesn't like to be touched much when making love..." Hermione then thought. "Hang on, are you saying _you'd_ like to see it?"

Ginny didn't answer immediately. "I think...I would be very smug to see it and know that you are still mine."

"Enjoying watching adultery? That's troll logic!"

"It's not adultery if I consent and know it's happening."

"I am not having sex with Anne Lister to perk your troll logic fantasies!"

"Fantasies are only that...fantasies, doesn't mean I want to actually partake. Although, _I know my own heart_...and yours."

"Oh clever...who's remembered a book title of a certain diarist?"

"I wondered if you'd notice, but you're Hermione, of course you notice!"

Hermione kissed Ginny. "We are rapidly going into the realms of daft, let's get to sleep."

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked, suddenly serious. "I know there's been a couple of tough moments for you today."

"I've dealt with it," Hermione almost whispered back. "I feel like I still won today. It didn't beat me, even at the most tense of times at that hovel. In some ways, having so much to think about helps. I can't dwell and can battle through it. It might never happen again and go away like it did before."

Ginny gently kissed her and then they found sleep.

**A/N: The layout and usage of the various rooms at Shibden Hall has changed over the years and often during Anne's time living there. So I'm using rooms such as the study and Red Room which did exist, but it's often uncertain as to which room was used for whom and when; aside from the room that was always Anne's.**

**Anne's questioning of their marriage arrangement comes from her genuine interest in such things. There is an amusing time when she visited the 'Ladies of Llangollen' in Wales and was subtly trying to see how they lived and managed their affairs, without actually spelling it out. The Ladies were as subtle as she was and never admitted to anything completely. Anne was always trying to see how affairs could be handled with any 'companion' she might choose to have. **


	8. Chapter 8 Riddles

Chapter Eight - "Riddles"

There was a knock at the door. Hermione stirred, she reached out for her watch on the side cabinet, it was 9am. The knock sounded again and the handle was tried, but due to the locking charm whoever it was couldn't get in.

Ginny was stirring as Hermione hopped out of bed and went to the door. A woman Hermione assumed was a maid, or some kind of house servant, stood there with a steaming pitcher and clean towels.

"Sorry to disturb you ma'am, Miss Lister said to bring you some hot water to wash with."

"We're late, aren't we?" Hermione said, as she let the maid in to replace the pitcher with the one with hot water she had carried up. "I never thought to ask Anne what time everyone got up here."

"Not that Miss Lister, ma'am," the maid said. "This is Miss Lister senior. She wondered if you wanted to freshen up and join the household for breakfast."

"Absolutely," Hermione said a lot more enthusiastically than she felt. "We'll be down shortly."

"Is that all ma'am?"

"Yes, thank you."

The maid left and Hermione closed the door, leaning back against it making an audible groan.

"I think you like having servants," said Ginny, amused, as she poured some of the hot water into the basin.

"I'll never get used to servants! I think I'll ask to have water left outside the door in future, and that we prefer cool water...it will save some awkwardness."

"Talking of which, thanks for accepting a nice awkward breakfast," said Ginny, as she set out the clothes she was going to wear.

"It might not be bad, Anne will hopefully direct the conversation when needed. It might even be entertaining."

Around half an hour later Hermione and Ginny were seated at the breakfast table, with Aunt Anne, Marian and her father present.

"Good morning, Miss Richmond and Miss Read," Marian said. "Sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you," said Ginny.

"It's a dull morning," observed Hermione. "Any rain?"

"Not yet, no." Aunt Anne replied.

Ginny and Hermione settled for some toast and jam and a cup of tea, drank from slightly chunkier china than their afternoon tea the day before, but also nicely decorated and of quality.

"You'll have to excuse my niece, Anne," said Aunt Anne.

"Don't we always?!" muttered Marian.

"She had a message come earlier this morning, she had to sort out a problem with one of the estate roads being worked on," Aunt Anne explained. "She'll be back when she can."

There was a little talk about estate works and what Anne was wanting to do with the grounds and house, all with Marian looking a little exasperated, followed with some talk about some of the tenants.

"There's been a death," said Aunt Anne, in almost a whisper. "Yesterday."

"Oh?" said Hermione, not letting on that she knew about it and that it appeared the Aunt had not been told many details.

"Probably drunk," said Jeremy Lister, who had been quiet till now. "It's been the death of many a stupid man."

"We don't know that," said Aunt Anne.

"It's a possibility," said Marian.

Another round of talking about the weather and Hermione and Ginny were considering going back upstairs, if only to restore their sanity.

"Anne told me to tell you that you can go into the study and look at the books you were looking at with her yesterday," said Aunt Anne. "If you haven't anything planned, or will be going out."

"Thank you, we'd like to see a couple of those again," said Hermione. "Lovely bindings."

Ginny looked at her wife while thinking _only Hermione could do small talk about books and their bindings!_

"Some of them are very old," Aunt Anne continued. "Some were bound locally, but over the years various Listers have added to the collection and from different places too."

The witches next course of action had now been made much easier and they managed to get away and went to the study. Hermione brought down a couple of old tomes and put them on a table.

Ginny opened one and flicked to a random page. "What the heck is this language? Or is it her...crypt hand?"

Hermione looked over at the book. "Greek," she replied. "I can't read it, but I remember some of the letters from the back of a dictionary."

"I suppose this is her version of 'a little light reading'?"

With a little chuckle Hermione turned the pages of the book she was looking at. "And here we have those daft s letters that look like f's but aren't f's."

"I found a lot of books like that in the Restricted Section at school," said Ginny.

Looking around them and seeing that no one was loitering near the door, Hermione pulled out a book from her beaded bag on landowners lists in the area again and looked at other lists.

She found the Listers, Walkers, Rawsons and the other recognized families from the area she had come across in Anne's diaries. In the Great and Little Hangleton villages there were only a handful of registered names, including the Jacobs and Riddles, nothing had changed on that score, yet.

"What date is that?" Ginny asked.

"1830-31-ish and 1832."

"So it could well show us if something drastic changes?"

"Not necessarily, depending how accurate the dating is on those lists, it's just a little guide to keep an eye on. The Massey name doesn't come in until a little later." The brunette closed the book with a slap and put it away. "I think we'll have to go to the village again.

"What can we do? We can't keep hedge hugging and veggie picking?!"

"We need to know whom is at the hall, some how."

"Harry's cloak would be helpful now," said Ginny. "Use _Imperius_ on Gaunt and get him to tell us?"

"No, too risky," said Hermione. She got out a book on maps and opened a page showing the villages on this side of Halifax, running her finger along some of the roads and trackways.

"What could get us up closer to the house?"

Hermione's finger had followed the road through Little Hangleton and a few hundred yards out of the village was a small meadow area marked as 'Gypsy Dell' and tapped her finger over it, enough that Ginny looked over at it.

"We're not going to dress as gypsies selling pegs and heather?!" said a horrified Ginny. "Besides, aren't the usual groups known. Won't it be odd for two gypsies to show up in that village, with no one else around, and no caravans?"

"Bollocks!" said Hermione, then looked around at the door again to make sure no one heard her. "What can we do? London was so much easier than this."

"Yeah, everyone here knows each other and nearly what they each had for breakfast," said Ginny.

They heard footsteps and in strode Anne Lister. "Ah, good, you're here." She might well have walked a couple of miles, but she looked immaculate with only a little dust around the bottom of her long black skirt and toes of her boots. She shut the door of the study. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Your aunt invited us down earlier, thank you." Ginny replied.

Anne noticed the books on the desk and sitting next to Hermione looked over at the page. "Landowners lists?"

"It's not telling us anything we don't already know," sighed the brunette.

"Any thoughts this morning?" Anne probed.

"Only that we need to know the occupants in that house in Little Hangleton."

"The problem is," Ginny explained. "We're not sure how many disguises we can get away with and nothing that will get us closer to the house than we have been already."

"And you can't sort of appear in the house, like the method you used with me last night?" Anne asked.

"Too dangerous," said Hermione. "If we have really bad luck and Apparate into a room with unknown occupants, we not only raise the alarm, but risk being killed."

"We don't even know if the people we suspect are actually there, even," added Ginny.

"And that's what you need to know, at the moment, the people in the house?" Anne asked.

"It would be a start." Then Hermione frowned. "Do people go door to door trying to sell things around this area?"

"Sometimes," replied Anne.

"Household goods? Or something else?" asked Ginny.

"I rarely answer the door myself," Anne said with a quirk of a smile. "I can ask one of the servants."

Hermione nodded, and Anne Lister stood up and walked out of the study, several minutes later she strode back in, closing the door again.

"I talked with Joseph, our footman and Cordingley in the kitchen. They haven't seen any salesman in recent days, but yes, occasionally someone will come by and offer services or goods."

"What kind? Is it specific to this part of the country?" Hermone asked.

"Knife sharpening and pots and pans repair, were among the services and then any number of goods to sell. Food, cloth, and that kind of thing. We never buy, as we have our suppliers in Halifax for everything we need."

"Would women, now, sell door to door?" Ginny asked. "I assume gypsies have the monopoly on pegs?!"

"It's not usual, no," Anne began. "However, young women or widows, I suppose everyone has to try what they can."

"I hate to say it...er...Emma," said Ginny. "Your accent is too posh to be a door to door seller. It would add to any suspicions."

"'Fink, oi can't talk, wiv owt ma plum in ma gob?" Hermione said, in a non-specific but very working class twang.

Ginny stared at her a moment, then burst out laughing. Anne Lister looked disturbed; curious, but definitely disturbed, which made Ginny laugh more.

"I think Anne thinks you might have lost your mind?!" the redhead said, still laughing.

"Look, I won't put the accent on quite so thick as that, but I'll take the corners off my usual teacher-voice." Hermione said amused. "The amount of accents I've heard in my job over the years, I have a good vocal library in my mind and of the vibe to use."

"Have I said this before?" inquired Anne, with a resigned smile. "You _are_ both stark staring mad."

"Whoops," said Ginny, grinning. "She _has_ noticed."

"From what I've seen, I've established that you can look grubby and now sound like it too," Anne said thoughtfully. "What will you try to sell, that won't get the door immediately shut in your face?"

"Mobile phones sales are out of the question," said Ginny with a chuckle.

"Metal scouring pads to clean pots and pans," said Hermione suddenly.

"Where did that come from?" Ginny wondered.

"I touched the tent bag when getting the books out, it made me think of all the metal tent pegs and what we could transfigure. I don't fancy selling knives and being impaled with them...but we could also give a little demonstration, if we get that far." She pulled out a couple of tent pegs from her beaded bag and using her wand turned the metal into six round tangled metal balls like some of the modern scouring pads.

"We'll need a few more than that," said Ginny.

Hermione brought out another handful of tent pegs and within moments they had at least two dozen scourers. She then brought out a some cardboard and turned it into a little box to carry them in.

"Okay," said Ginny. "Perhaps it will do. Only one way to find out."

"You'll go, now?" Anne asked.

"The sooner the better, because this might not even work," answered Hermione. "We'll Disapparate...leave from the bedroom again."

Anne sighed, the two witches couldn't tell if she was bored with them, wanted nothing to do with the whole affair now, or was envious that she couldn't go too.

"Might I see how you alter your...your..."

"Our disguises?" Ginny asked. "I don't see why not."

"You go on up, I'll make sure that the servants don't go into your room until you're back again later," said Anne, as she got up and strode out of the study.

In the Red Room Ginny and Hermione laid out some other clothing and tweaked the style and made sure it was different from the clothes they had been seen in before in the village; even if the faces were different, sometimes people remembered clothing.

Anne came into the room, shutting the door behind her and taking a seat on the end of the bed. "Want me to turn around while you change?" she asked, wondering. She was amazed how the changes to the clothing was done before, with a flick of the witches' wands and almost wanted to pinch herself to know she wasn't dreaming, or delusional with a fever.

"No need," said Hermione. With a flick of her wand she had her new disguise dress on, with only having to finish tying off the laces at the front on her dress, and tying her hair up. She was aware that Anne was watching her closely. Ginny was then watched as she too changed into her costume and arranged her hair.

"Glamour time," said Ginny. She flicked her wand a few times and she was a dark brunette, with a longer nose, broader chin, flatter brow and looking in the mirror she made her cheeks look a bit more weather-beaten.

Hermione had opted for a lighter hair colour, almost a blond, and she too changed her nose and chin, brow and cheeks. Seeing Anne watching them closely she said, "Facial recognition is all about markers. The things that stand out as being uniquely that person and you recognize them by those markers."

"The same principle in art," Anne replied. "If an artist can capture those finite points, where the light catches uniquely to that person, then the person's likeness will be good, or certainly enough to know the person in the painting."

"I think that's us ready," said Hermione, then she looked to Anne. "We really appreciate what you're doing for us. It could be the key to making progress."

Anne nodded. "I'll leave the room, but I'll lock it with a key. I know your...your magic thing works well, but it will be less noticed if I lock it. Only I have the key too."

"Hopefully we won't be too long," said Ginny. It was 10.30am now.

They both nodded to Anne Lister, then Ginny got hold of their sales box, as Hermione held her arm and Disapparated them both to Little Hangleton churchyard.

There were no villagers around in the churchyard that morning, much to the two witches' relief. They started walking at a normal pace along the pathway and turned to walk towards the edge of the village to the house.

"How much are we charging for this guff?" asked Ginny.

"I didn't think," her partner replied. "Four pence, two for sixpence?"

"I know nothing about values here, but it sounds fine. This isn't something that will ruin whoever invents the scouring pad later?"

"I shouldn't think so," said Hermione. "People have used particles of metal for years to clean things down."

They got to the boundary hedge, and turned into the long driveway. Hermione spoke in almost a whisper, "It's okay to look around a bit, we're peasants in awe."

"Speak for yourself," said Ginny, hardly moving her lips. "We go round the side or back, right? Tradesman's entrance?"

"Yeah."

They walked down the side of the house and found a porch-like structure out the back, which looked like it might have a scullery beyond. As they approached the door, looking to the windows and summoning up the courage to approach the door, they jumped, as a man came up behind them.

"What ya selling, ladies?"

They turned to see Morten Gaunt standing there, a garden hoe in his hands.

"We...we want to see the lady of the house or the housekeeper. We're..." Hermione rambled.

"Selling rubbish are ya?" The man took a look at the box they were carrying. "It won't matter what it is, they won't want it."

"Are you the house owner?" asked Hermione, knowing the answer.

"No. I work for the big man. I know what the house does and doesn't like, and they don't want to buy anything from the likes of you."

"Can we at least see the housekeeper," Ginny said, not knowing what to do for the best. "It's not a crime to try to make a living selling like this. We all have to earn a crust."

Hermione had been momentarily thrown off but came back into play. "We even do demonstrations to prove the product we sell. It's a great addition to any kitchen for cleaning pots and pans."

"Pots and pans?" Gaunt frowned, looking at the women curiously.

In a last attempt to throw off the annoying Gaunt gardener, who appeared to think he was also the guard dog, Hermione muttered to Ginny. "Well, we'll just have to cut our losses, and flog the lot cheaper to the Hanged Man. They _were_ interested."

"What was that?" Gaunt asked. "The Hanged Man?"

"Oh, yeah, we were told they might buy our stock, we'll have no choice. We can't go home without selling something."

"That tall, dark bloke seemed decent enough, there," Ginny said, completely tuned into Hermione's thoughts, and feeling that familiar spark from years ago in similar situations.

"Riddle? Pah!" Gaunt nearly spat. "You want nowt to do with that waste of space."

"We need to sell something somewhere, if we could just try..."

Gaunt walked past them and opened the door in the porch and moments later a maid, or from the age, more likely a housekeeper, came to the door and Gaunt sloped off back to the garden, giving the women a frown as he passed them.

"We don't need anything," the woman said, looking like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"If we could just show you how well our scouring pads work on pots and pans, you will be amazed," said Hermione.

"Please," said Ginny. "We've been walking all morning, had more doors shut in our face than any day we can remember."

"We get all we need from the village, or Halifax," said the housekeeper.

"It's not expensive," said Hermione. She brought out two scouring pads. "One for fourpence or two for sixpence."

"For a straggle of metal in a ball?" the housekeeper asked, doubtfully.

"Please, let us show you how it works," said Ginny. "Have you any pots or pans not been cleaned yet today?"

The housekeeper looked tired, then shaking her head she said, "Come into the scullery, there's a pan of milk caught this morning."

"You won't regret it," said Ginny, enthusiastically.

"Won't I?" the woman said, unconvinced.

They were shown an old copper pan, blackened on the outside, with caked burnt milk on the inside. Hermione got one of the scouring pads and being shown a bowl of water she could use, she got to work on the pan. In no time the coppery gleam of the pan came through. She had decided not to use any magic and to trust to practicality.

"That is...impressive," said the housekeeper.

"It's simple enough for even the youngest maid to use and gets work done much faster," said Hermione.

"Maid? Only me here, love," said the housekeeper.

"All the more reason to make things easier for yourself, Miss...Mrs?" Ginny said.

"I'm Mrs. Lockwood."

"Mrs. Lockwood, this will make cleaning the pots and pans more easy for you," Hermione paused. "Is it really just you, running this big house, all by yourself?"

"Yes, it has been for a while," the housekeeper admitted.

"We worked somewhere once," said Hermione, trying to elaborate their story. "We had a household of nine to cook, clean and do whatever else needed doing. We didn't even have a gardener."

"That must have been challenging," the housekeeper said.

"The kiddies weren't too bad," said Ginny, nearly enjoying the whole act now. "It was the master of the house that could be...a challenge." She whispered the last part conspiratorially. "Not the nicest to work for...which is why we've been moving around the country a lot, trying to get as far from there as we can, but try to sell things to make ends meet."

"Did he...touch you?" the housekeeper asked, concerned.

"Tried to," said Hermione. "Nearly succeeded with her, and that's when we left."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mrs Lockwood said, genuinely looking sad for them. "Still, many a maid has to endure things from their betters, just the way the world is."

"Not right, though," said Ginny.

"No."

"You're okay, Mrs Lockwood?" Hermione asked. "You look tired."

"I'm fine. Nothing like that has ever happened here, thankfully. His lordship is a funny old stick, but once I got used to his own ways it's been a good place here."

_Lordship,_ thought Hermione, _since when was a Riddle a lord?!_

"No ever-growing bunch of children or grandchildren to attend to?" Hermione put forward.

"Children? No. He never married. He takes an interest in his family, although he loathes them as much as they loathe him, until they need money."

"Family, like that, eh?" said Ginny. "Wish we all had someone to go to like that when we needed a few shillings, whether we liked them or not."

"Yes," Mrs Lockwood paused. "I'll take two of those scouring pads." She went into a pantry just off the scullery, where they heard the rattling of what sounded like a metal tin, then she came back with a sixpence. She looked at the pads Hermione handed over. "I think these will come in handy, especially if that daft cousin is going to keep burning the milk!"

"A daft milk-burning cousin?" Hermione said, casually with humour.

"Don't get me started," said Mrs. Lockwood, who then lowered her voice. "I always do all the cooking and cleaning, but since his cousins arrived on Sunday that young woman insists on doing some of the cooking, if you can call it that. This morning she said she'd watch the milk, then went off with her father and the ruddy stuff burned and I didn't know she'd gone, so didn't stop it burning in time, until Morten was screeching at me through the scullery, smoke pouring out of the door. It could have burned the house down."

"Nothing worse than those who think they can do better, but are actually a lot worse," said Ginny, with a knowing smile. "Perhaps have a word with your...your master and he'll advise his cousins to leave the cooking to you."

"Oh heavens, no!" said Mrs Lockwood. "I tried that Sunday evening and he nearly bit my head off. First time in years he's acted like that. I think he's trying to impress these cousins. I don't know why, because I don't think they can stand him, like the rest of the family, but as soon as they arrived, and later that evening he was all prickly with me. He hasn't seen or heard of them for years."

"Maybe he's under strain too, and can't show it other than being annoyed with you," suggested Hermione. "I hope they leave you in peace soon and everything goes back to normal."

"I hope so too," said Mrs Lockwood.

Hermione and Ginny tried to keep their faces as neutral and normal as they could. They both felt certain that their original hunch about this house being Jane Howard's destination was correct and were now certain she and probably the Massey tenant were here.

_No point asking for a vague description,_ thought Hermione, _Jane might be using a glamour like us._

"Well, we had better move on," said Ginny. "Thank you for your purchase."

"Yes. And if you find a pot or pan a little bothersome, soak the pan in water for a little while first to soften the contents up," Hermione added.

"I know about soaking pans, girls, but thank you," Mrs Lockwood said, nearly rolling her eyes, as though they were trying to teach her how to swallow water.

Hermione and Ginny waved back to the housekeeper as they left through the porch. Morten Gaunt was working on a flowerbed in a small walled garden beyond a hedge which is why they didn't see him when they first arrived. He looked round at them, and stared a bit longer than was comfortable, then shook his head, laughed to himself and went back to poking the soil with his hoe.

"I think that was all the proof we needed," said Hermione.

"Riddle obviously isn't happy about the visitors," said Ginny. "He must be muggle, or he could deal with them, surely?"

"I don't know enough about the Riddle family line, but Voldemort's father was definitely a muggle. I suppose he could have been a squib and even he didn't know."

"Do you think they have him under _Imperius_?"

"Possibly," said Hermione. "I still can't work out why they're here."

"Not knowing, hasn't stopped us from following a hunch that is correct," said Ginny, as she moved the box of scourers, slowing her walking, to make sure the lid was closed.

"It's a step closer, but if we..." Hermione stopped talking.

Ginny looked up and as they were coming to the end of the drive two people had entered it. A tall thin man with short brown hair, greying at the temples and a young woman with dark brown hair tied back.

"Fuck," Ginny muttered under her breath.

"Fuck indeed," muttered Hermione, without moving her lips, a strange feeling passing through her, warm and hot at the same time. "Is that him?"

"Who?"

"The one that nearly killed me."

"Double fuck!" said Ginny. "Keep your eyes down and keep walking."

They walked to one side of the drive and kept moving. The two new people looked at them, and carried on. Hermione's heart was beating faster than she thought possible, she could feel sweat trickling down her back. She was struggling to keep an even step. They had passed each other by several yards and Ginny and herself were nearly to the end of the drive about to turn into the main lane.

"Who are _you_?" came a shout from behind, suddenly.

The two witches turned to see the man and younger woman walking back towards them and the back of Morten Gaunt walking away to the garden again, obviously having informed them of the door-to-door sellers.

"Sellers of kitchen...items," said Ginny.

"What sort?" The man asked as he approached.

Hermione opened the box Ginny held and showed the scouring pads. "For cleaning all pots and pans. No stubborn stain they can't remove."

"I'm sure they can," said the man doubtfully. "Where you from? Haven't seen you before around these parts?"

"Halifax," replied Hermione.

"I ain't seen you there, neither."

"Only recently. We move around a lot..." Hermione tried.

"Different things sell better in different places," said Ginny. "We can't afford to stay in one place."

"You aren't old gypo folk, are ya?" the man asked.

"No," said Ginny.

"You travel a lot?" asked the young woman.

Hermione looked at her directly and was sure the voice was Jane Howard's only marginally hidden.

"We have a lot recently," said Hermione. "Do you?"

"You aren't going to stand here all day flapping ya drawbridge gossiping, you daft mare!" the man admonished the woman,

"Father, I only wanted to..."

"You only wanted...? Not always what everyone else wants, girl."

"Might I have a look at your scouring pads?" the girl asked.

"As if we need to look at crap like that?!"

"_Father,_" the young woman said, but it was the way she said it, with overt emphasis, that made Hermione look up from the box at her, only to find their eyes locked, and there was definitely a pleading look or something there. Something that wasn't what Hermione expected. She showed one of the scouring pads. "Mrs Lockwood bought a couple."

"So we won't need to look at more, then," said the man, and he took the scourer from the 'daughter's' hands and put it back in the box, put a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her to walk away with him.

They had walked a couple of steps away when the young woman turned and came back to them. "I'll have one for myself, this should cover it," she passed them a coin. "A kitchen is a _room_ of _requirements_ that should be able to feed an _army_."

"Help is always given to those who ask for it," Hermione reeled off in response, with no pause.

The woman nodded, grimaced and went back to her 'father', who gave her a scolding look for wasting money. They heard him say. "I don't trust the likes of them, summat wrong with them."

Ginny and Hermione didn't hang around and walked out into the main street and walked at a good speed towards the churchyard. On finding the place empty, they Disapparated back to Shibden.

They lifted their glamours and Hermione began to loosen some of the laces of her dress.

"That was Jane, I'm sure it was" said Hermione.

"Yes. And I don't think it's gone how she imagined," said Ginny. "That Massey bloke, and it _has_ to be him, seems to be in charge, and a bit nasty. It's not the same one that nearly killed you, though. He might be using a glamour himself, but I'm sure you'd _feel_ if it was him. I know that sounds odd, but you would know, after what happened to you,"

"I think you're right," said Hermione, softly. "Though he wouldn't have been able to recognize us if it was him. But you're right, I didn't feel...that weird sensation I had when he surprised me in 1943. I'm sure an inner sense would know it was him."

"I think he knew magic was being used, the glamour perhaps?"

"Well the Massey we knew was...what did he call it? Freelance?" Hermione said, nearly panting now. "Maybe there's something about...the family being undetected by Hogwarts...somehow. Maybe he feels disturbances...but isn't aware enough to know...exactly what it is. Anyway, I think she's...asking for help."

The redhead had been watching her wife closely. "Here sit down, deep breaths."

Hermione nearly groaned, disappointed that she hadn't been able to hide her anxiety and now she had sat down wordlessly admitting to it, she suddenly felt worse.

"Let's get you breathing slower," said Ginny softly, rubbing a hand to Hermione's back.

There was a knock on the door and the key turned in the lock. Both witches were only slightly on guard and were relieved to see it was Anne Lister.

"I was checking if you were back, as I passed," said Anne. "Any progress?"

"Yes, we think we've found her and Massey, your tenant," Hermione replied, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Excellent," said Anne. "That _is_ excellent...isn't it?"

"It's a start," said Ginny.

Anne looked at the two women and saw that something wasn't quite right. "What's wrong?" she gestured to Hermione.

"Nothing a bit of deep breathing won't solve," the brunette brushed off and tried to redirect, "It is progress of a sort..."

"A little confusing and complicated, as it's almost certain she knew it was us and asked for help in a coded sort of way," said Ginny.

"Can't you now swoop in and take her away?" asked Anne.

"No, it's still potentially dangerous," said Ginny. "We think the man she's calling her 'father' is Massey and he's possibly in control of her. She might have started out in control, then her status changed."

"Does he know you?" Anne wondered.

"I think he can feel the magic. To another magical person, even if they have only the smallest of magical power, they can sense magic being used. It's hard to explain...it's like static...like a faint fuzzy feeling gently prickling the skin, but you can't say where its prickling."

"So I couldn't feel that?"

"No, unless you were magical, which I'm fairly certain you aren't," Hermione almost felt like she should apologize but another thought came into her mind. "And another question is where is Massey's wife? No woman's body has been found, yet. So she must have been with them when they left their farmhouse after killing the Riddle brother? And the housekeeper was too genuine, too assured, to be someone in disguise."

"She could have been inside with Riddle at the house," offered Ginny.

"That Lockwood woman only mentioned the father and daughter as the 'cousins'."

"Perhaps she's doing something else in a different location?"

"Potential complications from unknown directions," stated Hermione. "That's all we need!"

Hermione finally looked in her hand at the coin Jane had given them for a scourer. "They copied Dumbledore's Army!" she exclaimed, as she saw that it wasn't a sixpence or any other type of legal tender, but a golden token like a galleon with 'RTW' on the back.

Ginny looked at it. "So that _was _what she was trying to say. Fuck!" The redhead then looked at Anne who wore a bit of a frown. "Sorry, that just slipped out." The dark-haired woman shook her head and gave a gave a crooked, half-amused smirk.

"You said Massey hadn't been a tenant for very long?" Hermione asked Anne. "Do you know anything else about him? Anything written down?"

"Not much, he had that small farmhouse, but didn't actually work the land, that was mainly worked by Riddle in that area. Massey used to do labouring duties on work teams...various jobs around the estate, including helping Riddle when needed," Anne Lister sighed. "From my foremen, they said he was a good strong worker, got more work done than the others, that kind of thing. He kept himself to himself."

"I think he was cheating with a bit of magic, don't you?" Ginny said to Hermione, who nodded.

"Do you know where he came from?" Hermione asked.

"Come down to my study, I have the tenancy ledger, any other information should be there, if not in my contracts file."

"You're feeling better?" Ginny asked her wife.

"Yeah, it's passed again," said Hermione.

Anne watched them closely again, but made no comment, although she knew that the brunette she knew as 'Emma', had not been looking all that well and appeared to be having some sort of breathing problem, but appeared to be better again now.

After a quick adjustment to their clothes, from working class back to higher status, they followed the black-clothed Anne Lister down to her study. She selected one of the large ledgers from a shelf behind a desk and flicked the pages. "There we go, he was on a six-monthly lease, so it would be reviewed every six months if he wanted to stay on longer, or I wished to retain him."

Anne picked up another old ledger and looked through loose papers within and found the contract. "Unusually for a labourer he's signed his name, not just a mark."

Hermione looked, squinting slightly at the old handwriting and styled print of the contract. "He came from Barnsley. Once worked for someone called Yeardley before hiring himself out as a labourer."

"Quite an oridnary, normal condition for a man of his status," said Anne.

"Yeardley, Barnsley...Yeardley..." Hermione said the name a few times.

"You've heard of him?" Ginny asked. "Obviously we've heard of Barnsley...does the name mean anything?"

"Yeardley of Barnsley," the brunette said again. She put the contract down on the desk and put her hands to her head, thinking hard, rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Yeardley?"

She suddenly pulled out her beaded bag and rummaged. She held her wand over the bag, "_Accio_ book on Yorkshire body snatchers." A book jumped up into her hand and she flicked to the index, then flicked to a chapter. "Yeardley was a convicted bodysnatcher in 1829. But he was active in the area for a while and who is to say he didn't go back to it...or even how old this supposed reference is? What an ideal job for a bloke with a bit of magic for helping to move dead people."

"Good lord," said Anne. "He desecrated graves, bodies? Like those awful men in Edinburgh, Burke and Hare? That was all over the press a couple of years ago, even reached me while travelling."

"Yes," said Hermione. "From all I've read they mostly supplied medical schools for financial gain. Some of them would stake out funerals, making sure the person hadn't died of anything contagious and even stole to order, if they wanted children or whatever. It's all pretty sickening."

"I...I've attended post mortems," said Anne, carefully. "But I assure you the subjects weren't dug up or stolen first."

Hermione sighed. "This doesn't really help us with the bigger problems, but it does place Massey as having been around Yorkshire the past couple of years, in whatever seedy or revolting occupation he might have undertook. It means he is more certain to be of this time period, which makes that part a little easier. And from what I've read wives were often involved in the bodysnatching business, in funeral attendance in particular, especially if the deceased was a child; so this wife of his has probably been working with him, whether she would choose it or not."

"We still don't know why they've deposited themselves on Riddle, or why Jane is with them," said Ginny.

"We can't just turn up at the house again, can we?" said Ginny. "If only we could get a message to Jane, somehow."

"We don't know the name she's using," said Hermione. "Unless she's taking Massey's name, but I doubt he's using his."

"No, I don't think so. His name would be known to some people, and would raise questions...unless he was using a mild glamour that made him look more like our John Massey than he would normally be – unbeknownst to him?" Ginny replied. "We could send a note to Riddle asking to pass on a message but..."

"That's very risky, whether he's under _Imperius_ or not." Hermione groaned.

"Actually, we _could_ go back," said Ginny, suddenly.

"Would you create new characters?" Anne asked, curiously.

"We could go back as the same people today," Ginny continued. "Say we had got all the way back to Halifax, were sorting out the takings and realized 'the young lady' had overpaid us and we were honest people and had to pay her back the change. She gave us a shilling instead of a sixpence, which is why we noticed."

"Oh, that's risky," said Hermione. "So thinly veiled."

"It's the only way I can see us getting near that house again," said Ginny. "We know the housekeeper, we know Gaunt. So it's not like we're completely random strangers is it? It's worth a try, isn't it?"

"Nothing else is coming to mind," said Hermione. "But we can't go again until tomorrow, it will make it only slightly more believable that way."

"In strange days and times, sometimes what you see isn't what you expect," said Anne philosophically. "Which also ultimately means, anything goes."

"Having a slight rapport with the people we might have to deal with again, has to put us slightly ahead of that theory, doesn't it?" Hermione wondered.

"Yes. Although, if you turn that line on its head, it could also mean they may see through _you_," said Anne, with a now familiar quirky half smile.

"Not helpful," said Ginny. "Chocolate teapot comes to mind!"

"A chocolate what?" Anne queried. "Hot chocolate made in a teapot?"

"Never mind that," said Hermione. "We'll just have to try the one semi-prepared advantage we have, if it doesn't work then we're no further back than not trying it."

"Admirable sentiment," said Anne, nodding her head.

"Like being in the school debating society," said Ginny, in nearly a mutter, shaking her head.

Anne Lister was rather enjoying the verbal backwards and forwards and seeing how these two remarkable women worked at problems. She didn't understand a lot of their methods, phrases, or what their limitations were, but the intellectual banter from both of them made her feel alive. At times she suffered the rare feeling of almost being inferior, but liked having answers for their questions and that they still marginally deferred to her and seemed to take her advice on board.

"Is there any reason why you can't come out for a walk with me this afternoon?" Anne asked.

"Where to?" asked Hermione.

"Around the estate, I'd like to show you some things here and what I hope to improve in the near future. As long as you're both good at a long walk."

"I don't see the harm," said Ginny, then smiling she added. "We're good at long walks too. If we think there's a dodgy situation we can soon turn away, glamour and face the world again."

"That would be nice," said Hermione. "There's so much history around here. However, you know I can't say what things might or might not have changed in our own time? Not that I'd really know that for sure, anyway."

"Of course," said Anne. "The curious soul inside me would have you tell me everything, but I trust in what you tell me, however infuriating that is."

"Thanks, I think," said Hermione, with amusement.

"I rarely eat lunch, perhaps some bread and cheese, and then we can be off?" suggested Anne.

"Sounds good."

Everyone had changed for the afternoon, and Anne was looking vibrant even in her mostly black attire, she had a silver topped walking cane, purely for the dapper look of it, a popular prop of the period. The sun was out, but wasn't too hot.

To aid any need for a fast identity change, Hermione suggested they both wear a straw hat, and that ladies walking out in this time period, instead of only walking in and out of a carriage would probably have head wear. She transfigured a couple of hats from a picnic basket she had in her beaded bag.

"I feel stupid!" said Ginny. "Why does this time travel thing always end up with bloody stupid hats?"

"It's not forever," Hermione said, amused. She also checked some of the rations she always packed in the bag, noting the enchanted flask of tea which she had had with her since their last time-travelling trip, was full and ready for service.

As they started to walk, Anne immediately started to speak of making the driveway better, so guests got a nicer view of Shibden. She was apparently going to change a lot of things, from planting and moving trees, to new walls and out buildings and garden features. All the while Hermione was thinking sadly that some of those improvements were not finished until after Anne had died and she never saw them.

They passed some labourers working on stone for a roadway, towards a small bridge over a little stream, most of them raised their hats and acknowledged Anne, with an "Afternoon, Miss Lister."

They walked through a path in a wooded area, where a stone bench was placed. They sat down in the shadows of the trees. Hermione produced her flask of tea which completely enchanted Anne, and poured them out a tea into the various mugs she carried with her.

"In the little clearing over there, I've always fancied a chaumière." Anne told them, pointing to a pathway through the trees.

"What's that?" asked Ginny.

"Like a small thatched cottage," Anne explained.

"I know what you mean. In our time it would be seen as an elaborate summer house, but much nicer and cozier," Hermione said, knowing that once it was built Anne would take Ann Walker there sometimes.

"Do you have one?" Anne asked. "In your time."

"No. The house we have is a small cottage. Perfect, but no need for anything else," Hermione said, feeling wistful over her house in Godric's Hollow.

"It has always been perfect to us," Ginny said dreamily.

"You miss it, I can see you both do," Anne said a little guiltily. "You'll see it again. I always believe that if you set your sights on something, that eventually, with patience, courage and a little grit you will attain that thing."

"You ooze positivity," said Hermione.

"I ooze?" said Anne, eyebrows raised quizzically. "Wounds ooze, as do breaking dams..."

Ginny laughed. "She means that your positive aura, your charisma, is so apparent it's like you can see it, as if it's pouring from you and infecting others."

"Infecting?"

"Perhaps 'affecting' is a better word, or influencing and projecting that positive energy into others," Ginny said.

"I rather like 'ooze'," said Anne with a laugh.

"Not too vulgar?" Hermione dared to inquire.

"Absolutely vulgar, but kind of enigmatically so."

All three women were silent for a time, listening to the birds and insects in the undergrowth and trees.

"Since I met you at church on Sunday," Anne began. "I can't quite explain what it has been like for me. Like being swept up into some adventure – which I'm only half able to partake in – but adventure all the same. It's like discovering a skill I didn't know I had, or learning a new one."

"I think you're pretty skilled at most things you try your hand at," said Hermione. "I _know_ you are, but I've also witnessed it for myself."

"It's annoying that I can't write it all down and saver again, after you have gone, but I understand your reasons, and will not break that promise. I will have to close my eyes and see it again when I wish to."

"I tend to close my eyes when I don't want to remember something," said Ginny, with a laugh. "Like looking really stupid in front of a stadium of more than twenty thousand people."

"That many people come to watch you?" Anne asked surprised.

"Nearer forty thousand at some places, or any important games."

"You really are famous in your world?"

"I am, but I would argue that Emma is more famous than me," Ginny allowed and subtly summed it up with. "From all her work against dark wizards."

"We can't say more about that," Hermione said regretfully.

"Work like this mission you're on now?" asked Anne.

"Similar."

"And do the public know about...your private life...your situation?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "That's not something that people have to keep secret any more, not unless they wish to."

"It scares me," Anne admitted.

"Freedom to be who you are?" Hermione asked.

"I've never known what that is like. There have always been the vile, vulgar rumours, but if one doesn't rise to it and acts perfectly the same all the time, then I can in my own way be myself."

"I hope that you never deny who you are," said Hermione softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to say it anyway.

"Never," Anne sat forward a little on the bench and looked Hermione in the face, with that piercing look of hers. "I am who God made me to be, to deviate to appease mere mortals would be perverse and against his wishes."

"Then with that, as your own inner motto, you will always be true," said Hermione.

Anne brought out her ornate silver pocket watch, it was late afternoon. "We should perhaps head back. I'm not sure I want to face a moaning Marian about our lateness today."

Dinner was a pleasant affair, followed by another pleasant evening in Anne's study talking about this and that. Their host seemed very relaxed in their company, as did Hermione and Ginny. However they had all been thrown together on this strange mission, not one of the three would change their chance meeting at Halifax church.

As they were getting ready to sleep Ginny said. "She's much less starchy now."

"I think that part of her is the bit that's always ready to be on guard, to gain the upper hand, to try and turn any situation to her advantage," Hermione replied. "And the world she lives in tends to be a world of social climbing, back stabbing and bitching. She's probably always on edge waiting for the next subtle, or not so subtle, insult."

"Well, we're not landed gentry, rivals for her land, or any part of her life, perhaps that's helped?"

"I'm sure it has," said Hermione.

"Oh and the other part is that she's sweet on you."

"Shut up!" said Hermione, mock slapping Ginny's arm. "Like all issues like that, I can't control what people think."

"See?"

"All right, Georgie was completely not your fault," Hermione then added. "I knew that anyway, you know that?"

"Very prickly about it, though," said an amused Ginny.

"Not at you, at her. At the fact I share you."

"That should make you feel smug...others wish it, only you actually get me."

Hermione leaned in and kissed Ginny slowly. "I know."

XXXXXXXX

The two witches awoke, Ginny a little before Hermione at around 9am and washed and dressed before going down to breakfast. Aunt Anne and Marian were there again, but Jeremy Lister and Anne weren't.

"Anne went out early to sort out a work party or something, she'll be back when she can," said Aunt Anne.

"No doubt she'll be distracted by something and we won't see her until tonight," Marian said disapprovingly.

"Is Mr Lister all right?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, fine," said the aunt. "He had an early start to go to a meeting in Halifax."

The breakfast carried on quite pleasantly as before, and they were onto their second cup of tea when Marian asked about the books they were interested in.

"I find all books fascinating," Hermione said, truthfully. "You do have some impressive works in your collection."

"Do you read Greek?"

"No."

"No, no one does," said Marian. "What's the point?"

"Well, I'm sure scholars would say differently," said Aunt Anne.

"It doesn't tell a person anything differently whether it's in Greek or the translated version?!"

"It has been said," Hermione ventured. "That translations don't always get their true meaning across. I don't have the time for Greek myself, but I'm sure it might give a different impression if read in the original language."

Marian's eyebrows rose in surprise and her face adopted a withered look. "I can see why Anne likes tucking herself away with you two."

Ginny had noticed this and not wanting to have any bad feeling or suspicion turned their way said, "There are people with a love of books, a love of horses, of flowers, or embroidery. Everyone has their own niche and talent. Which is good, because the world would be boring if everyone liked the same things."

"A very good way of looking at things," said Aunt Anne, nodding her head, relieved for the voice of reason presenting itself.

"There are merits to being boring, sometimes," Marian almost muttered.

"A least we all recognize our talents!" said Anne Lister as she walked in, receiving a very annoyed look from her sister who knew the barbed tone of that sentence was aimed at her.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Aunt Anne asked her niece.

"No. Not right now, thank you, Aunt." Anne then turned to Hermione and Ginny. "I have some news that might interest you. Come along to the study."

Once seated, Anne having brushed the dust off from the bottom of her long black skirt and boots, said, "I have a couple of my trusted people on the look out for anything unusual," seeing the surprise in her guests' faces she added. "They know nothing. I only asked them to tell me of any disturbances or strange things. They think I'm watching for any of these pathetic workers' protest rallies...anyway, I had a message arrive earlier this morning."

"What about?" Ginny asked.

"There was a death last night," Anne replied.

"On your estate?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"No, Little Hangleton." Anne saw the alertness in her guests. "I thought you would want to know."

"Do you know who?" inquired Ginny.

"Riddle, from the Hanged Man."

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione. "Not Riddle from the house?"

"I saw it myself."

"Saw? Where?" Hermione was agitated now.

"When I found out, I went into Halifax, a word here or there, and I got to see the body."

"What?"

"I couldn't wake you and take you with me when I got the message, because I'd have to explain you to my men, and there wasn't _time_ to come back and get you."

"We need to see the body," said Hermione, slightly stressed.

"I know that too, so I looked for you," said Anne, loving the mixture of surprise, possible annoyance and even a little nervousness which she saw in response.

"How?" Hermione nearly barked.

"The mortuary, which is..."

"I asked _how_, not where?!"

"Well, if you would let me finish," Anne said patiently, loving being in control of the current situation. "In Halifax, before a coroner's inquest today or tomorrow. I managed to get myself in to view Riddle and I looked a little more thoroughly."

"And the mortuary people stood there and let you fiddle with the body?" exclaimed an astounded Ginny.

"No. I mentioned my poor tenant dying, being the brother and that I wanted to see this one and say a prayer for him. Me being me, they let me have the room to myself for a few minutes." Anne saw that Hermione was about to jump in with questions but continued on, "He had a rope mark around his neck, like someone that has been hanged, although there wasn't much in the way of swelling or discolouring in the face or eyes, nor lips, not what I'd expect from hanging. I looked lower and there was the same bruising on the chest I saw with you on his brother."

"Did they say how he died? The official or current view?" Hermione asked.

"Took his own life by hanging, was found by a customer and cut down, but was already dead."

"That's a convenient official little lie, then. Hanged at the Hanged Man," said Ginny, shaking her head. "I wonder who found him?"

"That's the other thing," Anne couldn't stop a little smile. "It has been recorded as Morten Gaunt. He's supposed to appear before the coroner."

"What?" Hermione slapped her hand on the desk in front of her. "He probably bloody did it!?"

"It _had_ crossed my mind," Anne replied drily. "The other convenient thing is that Thomas Riddle was supposedly in debt. So it could be said we have a cause for the ghastly act on Riddle's part."

"Good luck with getting a Gaunt to do anything," said Hermione. "

"Those two really didn't like each other," said Ginny. "When we saw them the other night, the latter was drunk, but Riddle did seem a bit pissed off...err...annoyed, that his uncle had given such a pay rise to Gaunt. And then we insinuated that we favoured this Thomas Riddle to sell our wares to, and he soon jumped in and got the housekeeper for us. Very, competitively, against him."

"Where was Riddle's wife, if Gaunt found him?" Hermione asked.

"Apparently she wasn't home last night," said Anne. "From what was hinted to me, I believe she may have left him, as in: left the marital home. She wasn't home from the afternoon and they don't know where she went."

"I suppose she might be a suspect, but I only hope it's not another death and that Jane had nothing to do with it," said Hermione. "Not directly."

"We definitely have to get to that house again today," said Ginny.

"Anne, thank you," said Hermione, sincerely.

"I said I would try to help. I might not be able to do any hocus pocus, but practical things like this are completely within my power." Anne regarded the two witches then said. "I do have another idea."

"What about?" replied Hermione, deep in thought.

"How you can get to the house and possibly see inside, without having to completely use the sellers characters again."

Hermione was alert, now. "How?"

"I go to pay a call on Tobias Riddle, to pay my respects, as they were his family. Maybe reassure him that my Riddle tenant's account was paid up and owes nothing to me...which isn't strictly true. He was two pounds, two shillings and four pence in debt to me, to be paid at the next quarter. But, with this current situation I'm prepared to waive it to keep things nice and friendly."

"It could work," said Hermione. "How do we accompany you without it looking suspicious, though?"

"I take one of you with me as a cousin, friend from London, whatever, while the other of you do play with the seller character and try to get this Jane girl alone with you," suggested Anne.

"It might work, because whatever has happened to the old uncle, I doubt Massey would want to be out of sight of the meeting," said Hermione.

"Divide and conquer." Anne gave a charming smile again. "As you said, they would have to split up to deal with both things. At the very least, it's worth a try to split them apart."

"You're sure you want to take the risk?" Hermione asked sternly. "It will be into the lion's den. We still don't know the exact nature of what is going on there."

"As I always say, we're not really alive unless we take a few risks."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Hermione drily. "You won't be alive if this goes wrong."

"Well, I'm already involved, now," Anne stated adamantly.

"We could polyjuice and one of us actually becomes Anne?" offered Ginny.

"That could work," nodded Hermione.

"_No_, it most certainly couldn't!" said Anne.

"It's not body possession," explained Hermione. "It's a potion, that allows a witch or wizard to become someone else using just one hair of that person."

"I gathered it was something like that, but that isn't what I mean," Anne half smiled again. "You _cannot_ become me."

"We've been many people," said Ginny. "You'd be surprised."

"Yes, but I doubt you've ever been landed gentry. You wouldn't know how to naturally act with people of equal standing, or even assess what level the person is you're talking to, without needing more than a look and a sentence and adapting immediately."

"Well..."

"You don't know the finite points of protocol and subtle nuances," Anne continued. "Even the way you stand. Whatever is said about me, _I'm_ recognized. If I am seen to act more oddly than usual, that will be commented upon, around all West Yorkshire within the day."

"She has a point," said Ginny. "We have to accept."

"I'm glad that's settled," said a satisfied Anne Lister.

**A/N: I just figure Anne would check out the body herself and make notes...**

**A good read on the history of Yorkshire bodysnatchers is "Digging in the Dark: A History of the Yorkshire Resurrectionists" by Ben W Johnson.**


	9. Chapter 9 The Cousins

Chapter Nine - "The Cousins"

The two witches were sat with Anne in her study at Shibden Hall, working out their plan to meet Tobias Riddle and try to gauge both Jane's status and Massey's.

"I think it's obvious," said Ginny to Hermione. "I work on Jane, and you work on Riddle."

"Why obvious?" the brunette wondered.

"As we've always established, your voice is naturally more posh than mine, so use it," the redhead grinned. "I know she was your pupil, but she knows you have someone here with you. If she truly wants help, then she'll be okay with me."

"All right, then I'll be your friend from London, staying at Shibden on my way to Edinburgh," Hermione said to Anne. "I heard about your tenant, and it had disturbed you greatly, so I accompanied you."

"It could be very dangerous if Massey hasn't changed his appearance," said Ginny, suddenly. "He'll recognize Anne, then know that _she_ knows something dodgy is going on, then we'll all be up shit creek...er...in a spot of bother."

"There is a way we could be sure, or try to be," said Hermione. "Pensieve."

"Would that work on a muggle?" Ginny asked. "And can you make one?"

"Don't know till we try," said Hermione, before turning to Anne again. "There might be a way I can get you to see my memories and therefore see the man we saw yesterday. If he looks like your tenant or not. Even if it is him, as long as he doesn't look like he normally does that's good. As he won't want to make a scene about it and won't think that you would know he's using magic to disguise himself."

"I'm not all that familiar with him, as he's only been a tenant for a couple of months, but I did briefly see him a fortnight ago. I'll try, of course."

Hermione quickly thought about the task and made a pensieve with a bowl of water and a mirror at the bottom - items she had in her beaded bag - then tried to use a variation on a transfiguration spell. She then put her wand to her head and teased out the memory she needed and put it directly into the bowl's swirling depths.

"Put your face into the bowl and let yourself be taken into the swirl, like you're diving into a tunnel, don't be afraid of falling, you won't actually be anywhere, other than in this room, it just gives the illusion that you have fallen into that world."

Anne Lister loosened her cravat around her neck, took a couple of breaths then did as she was told. The two witches weren't at all certain it was going to work, until Anne flinched, but had the courage to stay where she was and didn't back out. A couple of minutes later she wrenched herself back, and flung back into her chair, panting.

"That was..."

"Horrible?" Hermione answered for her.

"Yes, but it was also peculiar, indescribably terrifying and thrilling too. It was like I was actually there, and could feel my heart thumping madly, which must have been _your_ heartbeat...," Anne said astonished.

"Did you see the man, Massey?" Hermione quickly asked, to get to the point they needed to know.

"I saw the man, but that's not who I thought the tenant was, I didn't really recognize him. Tall and thin, a little too large a nose, like my tenant, but it wasn't him."

"That's good news," said Ginny. "I do think we can risk it. Even if he recognizes you, he won't let you know he knows you. Or if he does, he's a clumsy idiot."

"I have a condition," said Anne, turning to Hermione. "Will you please let my maid arrange your hair, Emma?! You've made a good attempt I admit, but we don't want anything letting the side down."

Ginny burst out laughing, to the point of almost wheezing. "You have no idea! She's been battling with her hair her whole life."

Hermione initially looked annoyed, but she couldn't help smiling. "All right, but we have to get on with things. I've had another thought about your story," she said to Anne, as she put the now transfigured and working pensieve, into her beaded bag. "A cover story or lie is always best when there is some truth to it."

"That makes logical sense, because you're saying something that is partly true, therefore the body and facial language is already prepared," Anne nodded.

Hermione had been staring at Anne a moment, then shook her head to get back on track. "Right. So you can even say that, you were at the morgue, or in town, on business about your tenant Riddle, when you were told about his brother. And that you were going to get your steward to call by, to sort out the account, but felt you had to come yourself to offer condolences."

"It's a little beyond what I would normally do, but yes, that is plausible," said Anne.

"There's another little problem," said Ginny. "I can't arrive with you, because poor little ol' me wouldn't be with the likes of you. Plus, if you're going to be dolled up to the nines, you ought to go by carriage," she said to Hermione.

"Can we do that?" Hermione asked Anne.

"Well, err, the Lister chaise is a little worse for wear, but I could get one ordered now, it would be here in the hour if I send one of the faster children."

Hermione couldn't think about child labour right that moment and simply said. "Yes, and don't worry about cost, we can cover everything."

"That's not how I..."

"Look, we have however much money is needed, don't argue, we have this sorted," said Hermione, not noticing the almost painful expression, tinged with shame, that had passed over Anne. "Besides if I'm from London and one of your friends, then I likely have a large bank balance and would use good transport while here."

"If you must," said Anne tightly, as she went to the door, called her footman Joseph and told him to get one of the fast errand boys to get a carriage from Halifax. When she said a very good one, he only just caught himself from looking surprised. Anne came back and shut the door. "That's ordered."

"So we need to coordinate," said Ginny.

"Come with us in the carriage," said Hermione, "...then Disapparate a little way off, walk your way into the driveway maybe a few minutes later, and make your way around the back."

"We just have to hope they're in," said the redhead.

"I think they might be, if they've been killing people again," Hermione surmised. "They'll need to lay low, or be in the house to make sure Tobias Riddle doesn't do anything unexpected."

"There is another problem," Ginny began. "They might notice magic on us, which is fine for me, because I was there before, but for you as Anne's friend?"

"We could lessen it, if you did my glamour for me. There's still a trace of magic, which Jane might sense, but Massey probably won't, as he seems not as sensitive or trained to it, and I'm hoping our look, with Anne's ability to command any room she enters, should be enough of a distraction for him not to take too much notice."

Anne chuckled and was nearly on the verge of a contented blush. "Command a room, indeed!" she muttered.

"Well, you _do_," said Hermione bluntly. "Let's use all the advantages we have."

"I think you'd better have another identity too," said Ginny, thinking. "As a few people know that 'Miss Richmond' comes from Bristol ,with a friend."

"Okay, er...I can still be Emma, but no one needs to know my first name, so just a surname needed," said Hermione.

"It had better not be a name of an actual friend of mine, as if the news were to get out somehow, it might pose difficult questions," said Anne, delicately.

Hermione knew the 'difficulties' would be anything from surprise, nosiness and possibly jealousy of which friends did what, with Anne. She briefly puffed out her cheeks, thinking. "Miss...Elliott, that will do." Anne nodded in agreement.

XXXXXXXX

Around forty-five minutes later in the Red Room, Hermione was dressed in a very fine dress of burgundy velvet, trimmed with black, with plain but stylish black shoes. To make her bust line a little more modest and respectful, she added a short jacket of the era's styling, to cover her upper shoulders and wrap around her front. Ginny was back into the plain woollen and linen working-class dress of the kitchen aids seller.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door and Anne Lister walked in; she had a very finely cut long skirt, high collared shirt and waistcoat with a smartly tailored over jacket. Behind her was a maid, as they sat Hermione down and arranged her hair.

"It's always been a little unruly," Hermione said, self-consciously. "Some days worse than others."

"Not a problem for me, ma'am," said the maid.

It didn't seem to take long before the maid was finished and left again and Hermione was surprised at how nice her hair looked, if a little strangely styled with a ringlet-like appearance at the sides of her head.

"You look good," said Ginny. "Apparently your hair isn't such a battle in this era."

Anne was admiring Hermione's hair and dress. "I think I can see how you have been many people, now. I don't think any look or attire wouldn't suit you."

Hermione just smiled and Ginny did a little laugh, knowing that Anne was definitely taken with her wife.

"I think I heard horses," said Anne. "Come down when you're ready."

"We'll change our appearances in the carriage, but we'll keep our heads down so we don't confuse the grooms," said Hermione.

"Oh, they'll know not to stare if I'm there," said Anne, confidently.

A short time later they were trotting along in the carriage. Ginny had just altered her own face with a glamour to how she had looked the previous day, asking Hermione if she had got it right, then she turned her wand onto Hermione. Opting for the same colour hair as her own, as the style really made it look nothing like her own. The face was different from her own and not like the door-to-door seller she had been the day before.

A few minutes passed and Ginny got hold of her box of metal scourers, making sure none would fall out.

"I reckon you should Disapparate any time now," said Hermione. She leaned to the window, trying to look ahead of them. "No one on the road."

Ginny reached over and squeezed Hermione's hand, a look passing between them, as they nodded to each other. Then with a crack, Ginny was gone. She literally landed on the verge, narrowly avoiding overbalancing into the roadside ditch. She checked around her, and there was no one in sight to see her, so she started walking, the carriage a long way ahead of her, still just visible, turning into the driveway.

"Are you nervous?" Anne asked Hermione, back in the carriage, as it slowed to turn up the driveway.

"Yes. Hard not to be."

"I never get nervous, normally, but I think that's what I feel today," admitted the immaculately dressed Anne. Hermione looked at her, slightly concerned. "Don't worry. I won't let the nerves show."

"I've spent most of my life having to try and not show how I feel," said Hermione suddenly. "I was usually the topic of everyone's jokes, or the person to try and kill the most."

"I can't say I've experienced that exact state of affairs, but I know what it's like to have to ignore the world around you, when it refuses to take and accept you as you are. You have to ride the wave and hope by showing that it doesn't rattle you, that it never can."

"Even though it _does_ hurt."

"Yes. We aren't human if we refuse to feel everything, only we don't show it." Anne got hold of Hermione's hand and squeezed it. "It's time we put on our play, whether it be comedy or tragedy."

"I hope neither," muttered Hermione, as Anne held out her hand to help her out of the carriage.

They walked the few steps to the ornate and very wide front door, set in a large frame with stained glass down the side panels. Anne reached out and sounded the large heavy brass door knocker shaped like a fox's head. There was no immediate answer, so Anne repeated the knocking with the fox knocker. They heard footsteps now and it was Mrs Lockwood who answered.

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Lockwood said flustered.

"I'm Miss Lister of Shibden Hall, I've come to call upon your master Mr. Riddle," Anne said as naturally and smoothly as if talking about toast at breakfast.

"He's not taking visitors today," Mrs. Lockwood said nervously.

"It's not just a social call. I heard the news this morning about Mr. Riddle of the Hanged Man. His other recently deceased nephew was my tenant, and I need to close his account with his next of kin, which is now his uncle, as well as pay my respects. This is my friend from London, Miss Elliott."

Mrs. Lockwood looked uncertain, but bade them come in. "One moment, please." She bustled off down the hallway, knocked at a door, went in. Some voices were heard, one a bit louder, then the woman came back. "This way."

They were lead into a parlour, with chairs, a couple of tables, with one being used more as a desk. The whole place looked like it needed a good clean and a coat of paint. A rather thin, grey haired man of perhaps sixty or seventy years old, sat at one of the tables. Another man was standing next to him, whom Hermione knew was Massey. He stiffened slightly at the sight of them, but it was almost imperceptible. The way he stood there made Hermione think of a pirate's parrot sitting on Riddle's shoulder, but it wasn't a particularly calming thought.

Straight away Anne extended her hand to the older man. "So sorry to hear the news this morning, you have my deepest condolences."

"Thank you, Miss Lister," Riddle replied.

"How did you hear so fast?" the other man asked, his eyes intent on them.

"I didn't catch your name," Anne said extending her hand to him, without so much as a flinch, knowing that he could be at least a double murderer and possibly a former body snatcher.

"I'm his...cousin," he nearly stuttered over. "I'm James Riddle."

"Pleased to meet you, though one could wish for better circumstances," Anne carried on. "May I present my friend Miss Elliott from London. She insisted she accompany me, as it was such a shock. I was in Halifax this morning, to attend to some business when I was told the news."

"It was sad, and...err...sudden," said the uncle, haltingly.

"Death is always sudden, in whatever form it arrives," said Anne, sympathetically.

"Mrs Lockwood said you had some business with me?" he asked.

"About your nephew, Terrence Riddle's account of tenancy with me," Anne said.

"'Spose you want money, or why else would you be here?" said the man identifying as James Riddle, but both Hermione and Anne knew to be Massey.

"Actually, no," said Anne. "I wanted to assure you that Riddle's account with me was settled, he owes me nothing, but I wouldn't be a good landlord if I didn't officially settle things with you."

The door opened and in walked the young woman Hermione had seen before and was certain was Jane.

"What did I tell you about knocking around here?" Massey, under the guise of James Riddle, blustered.

"Sorry...father," the woman managed to say. "I heard voices and wondered who had arrived."

"Nothing to do with _you_," Massey said.

While this conversation was bordering on a family argument, the old man Riddle sat passive, with slightly worried eyes, his face a picture of strain.

Hermione decided to take a chance, looking to the younger woman. "Oh, let me talk with...?"

"I'm Catherine...Catherine Riddle," the young woman said.

"Well, why don't I talk to Miss Catherine, while you conclude business," said Hermione, as she dipped her head respectfully to both Tobias Riddle and Anne, who smiled back at her.

"You won't get any sense out of her," said Massey.

The woman identifying as Catherine was almost rooted to the spot, until Hermione stared at her, willing her to pick up on who she was this time. Whatever Jane might have done or manipulated, she was a very talented, diligent individual, who could become a genuinely good auror. She momentarily showed surprise and then looked panicked, but covered herself by quickly saying. "There are some lovely portraits in the next room, would you like to see?"

"That would be nice," said Hermione nodding.

Massey looked suddenly very nervous and took a step towards them and was about to protest, but was clearly in two minds as to what to do, then Anne seemed to gauge the situation perfectly and spoke about real business again, which drew Massey back to the old man's side, who was clearly not the sharpest pin in the pack. All he could say to their back was, "Don't go touching anything that don't belong to us!"

"I can give you a short recap of Terrence Riddle's tenancy," Anne was saying, as she took a seat. "There are very few personal affects, as the farmhouse he had was furnished. He hadn't yet married, as you are probably aware of, so there are no widow duties..."

In the next room, Catherine looked over her shoulder to the door; satisfied with not being overlooked, she turned a pleading face onto Hermione. "Is that really you, under there?"

"Depends which 'you' you're referring to?" said Hermione, not giving an inch, yet.

"Is that you...Professor?" the young woman whispered.

"Is that Jane?" Hermione asked back, quietly.

Jane nodded, and then her shoulders sagged, like the weight of the world wasn't only on her shoulders, but had been dumped there with interest.

"I'm sorry, so sorry, I'm a fool...I'm.."

"Shh," Hermione quietened her. "Not time for that now. Can you leave?"

"No, I can't, yet."

"Yet?"

"He made me make an unbreakable vow, or something similar to it. I'm bound to remain until he has completed things, or has finished with me."

"Such as?"

"I came here to do a couple of simple, but very small things...like you did. Not big things, but should have made things better for my family down the line," Jane blurted out. "I never wanted to come here...my parents..."

"Why _are_ you with John Massey, anyway? Was it by accident?"

"He's...," Jane looked over Hermione's shoulder to the door, nervously. "He's...I can't...I was supposed to meet him...it's complicated..."

Hermione nearly growled at the word 'complicated'. "All right, we're short on time. How long do you think it will take?"

"He said he needs another day or two at least. Has to do some 'real' business, whatever that means. He shut me out of the plans nearly as soon as I arrived and explained myself. Only when he's done what he wants to, or he's dead, can I be released...and no, I can't raise my wand to him...I can't cast anything on him...and I don't think I have it in me."

"Quickly, tell me, did _you_ murder those two men?" Hermione asked sharply, but still hushed in volume, wondering if the 'I don't think I have it in me' was a lie.

"I didn't want to go, I didn't..."

"Did _you_ kill them?" Hermione thought she heard voices from the back of the house, knowing Ginny would be there now.

"No. But I had to be there and be involved..."

"The details can wait," Hermione answered, as satisfied as she could be with the answer. "Mrs. Lockwood should be talking to Ginny Weasley now, come to pay you back the change we didn't give you. Go out there now and say thank you and say 'mischief managed' and 'all has worked'. She'll catch on."

Jane looked uncertain but left Hermione in the room, looking at the portraits of presumably puffed up Riddle ancestors, in varying ranges of Georgian attire. There were a couple of sideboards with old vases on them, but the room had a horrible smell, like it was always damp in winter and hardly dried out in summer. _A little like the sediment from the bottom of an old pond_ she thought, wrinkling her nose. She read some of the name plates in the gilt edged frames. At least three Thomas Riddles, which gave her an odd chill; a Captain Tobias M. Riddle dressed in Royal Navy gear who had apparently served with Captain James Cook as a midshipman, in the previous century. An old lady, Cassandra Riddle, holding a book. And Timothy Riddle, sat on a horse, dressed in the impressive uniform of a British Army cavalry officer, with the added information of '1st Regiment of Life Guards'.

A few minutes later Jane came back, and Hermione turned back to face her. "All right?"

"Yes, she said she must get back on the road to Halifax."

"I know you can't leave in the fullest sense, but are you able to walk in the grounds of the house?"

"Yes, I have done since we've been here, although I try to avoid that gardener," Jane said.

"Yes, I would too," Hermione nodded. She looked to a clock on a sideboard in the room, it was 12pm. "Could you meet us in the trees, to the side of the house, on the boundary hedge at 3pm?"

"I'll try."

"Perhaps we can talk more then and think of how to proceed."

"My being here is not what you think, _nothing_ is what you think..."

"What nonsense is she telling you?" Massey pushed open the door, glaring at Jane.

"She was telling me that the man on the horse, in the cavalry, wasn't actually that good on horseback, despite how he looks in the painting," Hermione improvised.

The slight flush to Jane's cheeks was actually from a bit of panic, but worked well to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry father, I shouldn't tell tales about our ancestors."

"That you shouldn't," he said crossly. "Well, that business is done, Miss Lister is ready to leave."

"Thank you," said Hermione. "Again, my deepest condolences to the family."

"Thank you, for your kindness," Jane managed to say, meaning it in a much deeper sense.

Hermione didn't wait to hear or see the reaction of her supposed father and walked back down the hallway where Anne was waiting for her. She actually felt a little weak from the tension and was glad of the support Anne gave and in helping her up into the carriage.

_Please be on the road,_ thought Hermione of Ginny.

"We need to take the road back to Halifax," she told Anne, who nodded and told the groom.

Once in the carriage and trotting away, slowing to turn back out into the main street, Hermione then let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She put a hand up to brush away a lock of hair and found her hand was shaking.

"Are you all right?" Anne asked.

"I really ought to be asking _you _that?!" said Hermione. "I put you in so much danger, I'm so, so sorry."

Anne clasped her hand. "I told you I would help, and I am. Let me worry about my own risks." She worked her hand so she felt Hermione's pulse. "Good heavens, your heart is racing!"

"I know." Hermione replied.

"I've seen you like this a couple of times now, are you suffering from some illness?"

"Not an illness, not really," Hermione sighed. "It's easiest to say that, since our magical war, nine years ago, I sometimes suffer with attacks of anxiety. I haven't felt it for seven years, but it's come back. I can deal with it. I have before."

"Hmm," said Anne watching Hermione closely. "It was _your_ heartbeat I felt, when I looked at your memories in that bowl contraption. If that is so, it's amazing you haven't passed out. You appear to be a lot stronger than you look."

"It's not important, now," Hermione brushed off. "What was the old man like, any more talkative?"

"No. I'm not sure he's entirely all there," Anne analysed. "He is definitely being bullied by that brutish impostor cousin. I could have sworn that the old man was at times scared and at others very focused. I've witnessed that the mind in some older people can come and go, it certainly does with him."

"Dementia: it's possible, I suppose," Hermione said as she then tried to peer to the road ahead. "I think I can see her. Watch out for sudden incoming witch."

About two minutes later Ginny appeared on the same seat she had left. "We're all alive, so that's good," she said.

"How are you, really?" Hermione asked.

"I'm fine," said Ginny. "Had another bloody run in with that Gaunt bloke. What the hell is he? Some sort of rottweiler?"

"You obviously got past him?"

"Yeah, after much bowing and scraping about being an honest woman and not wanting to wait a moment longer to pay back the correct change to the 'young lady'," Ginny, mock gagged, which made Anne laugh. "Seems I wasn't really needed after all, though."

"Yeah, it went much better than expected." Hermione then told her partner about their side of the operation and she was as sure as she could be that Jane didn't actually do the killing.

"I had a feeling it wouldn't be simple," said Ginny. "Sounds like whatever this type of vow is, it's basically slavery. A shame she didn't see it coming and get the heck out of there before anyone could bind her to anything. And if she's telling you that things are complicated, they're probably even more so than we can imagine."

"When we go back this afternoon, I'm not sure we can get her away then, but at least we might be able to talk a little longer."

"If that Massey bloke ever leaves her alone." Ginny suddenly looked up, thinking on her own words. "Oh, he wouldn't have, would he?"

Hermione had met her eyes at the same moment. "I hope not. The guy has a wife...not that that deters a crime, but...oh we'll just have to hope it's _not _that kind of complication, that's not how she spoke, although she's definitely scared of him."

XXXXXXXXX

After a light lunch, a change of clothes - altered into browns and greens, to not stand out, and the glamours of the sellers reused - and Anne Lister acting undoubtedly slightly annoyed that she couldn't go with them, they Disapparated from the Red Room to the clump of trees near the Riddle manor house at just before 3pm.

Nervously they looked around and ducked behind a tree into the tall bracken and fern undergrowth, to remove themselves from the eye line of the house.

Hermione was about to look again to see if anyone was coming from the house, when she saw movement. A horse and carriage was leaving the driveway; not as grand as the one they had used from the Micklethwaite brothers, and about on par with the decent one they had used earlier in the day. Hermione and Ginny laid low, literally, hearing the horses hooves, the harnesses and the rumble of the carriage.

The noise became more faint and finally quietened, leaving the two witches wondering about the occupants of the carriage and all the connotations that could mean.

Ginny checked her partner's watch, it was now 3.10pm. They both felt a little nervous about how long they should stay where they were and whether Jane had been in the carriage.

"Another ten minutes," whispered Hermione.

No sound was heard, except for the swish as Ginny flicked a beetle off her arm into the vegetation; they were about to move, when they heard the crush of footsteps coming their way. Neither of them dared to look, both had their wands ready in case they needed to quickly Disapparate.

The footsteps stopped, there was a breath exhaled then some humming. It was a few moments before Ginny nudged Hermione and mouthed "Hogwarts song?!"

Not sure as what to do, Hermione gripped her wand and decided to take a peep at the humming newcomer. Slowly and silently she peeped around the tree and the woman she had met before was standing there, looking up at the sky, looking at the tree, still humming.

"Over here," Hermione said in a whisper.

The humming briefly stopped then continued as Jane walked to them, she again looked around casually, then suddenly bent down and cut some weeds or herbs near her feet, looked at them in her hand, before crouching near the tree, as if looking for more.

"I have to be careful," said Jane.

"Is someone watching you?"

"Not sure, but that gardener is always snooping around."

"Who was in the carriage, that left a little while ago?" asked Hermione, daring to peep around the tree now, still kneeling and mostly covered by the undergrowth.

"My father and Mr. Riddle," Jane replied.

"He's not your father, is he, really?" Ginny asked, hoping for no more unforeseen obstacles.

"I have to keep remembering that he is, here," Jane explained. "It's easier that way, not to mess up."

"Where are they going?" asked Hermione.

"Halifax, to see someone called Parker."

"What about?"

"Some official papers. Something to do with deeds."

"What were you thinking? Coming here to 1832? What the hell were you doing?" Ginny asked, annoyed and no longer able to contain her irritation.

"My parents...are not easy...and they will have to file for bankruptcy soon," explained Jane. "They've had money problems for years, but they saw my schooling as an opportunity. And once I reached my final year and passed my Apparating test and became more kind of mobile, they thought they could see a path to reversing things before they started."

"You could have said 'no'," Ginny said bluntly.

"You haven't met my parents," Jane replied, sadly. "They were going to pull me out of Hogwarts and...worse."

"Your parents are muggles though, aren't they?" Hermione asked, trying to understand, and fearing the answer.

"My Mum is a squib," Jane said, exhaling an exhausted breath. "As was her mother, but my great grandfather wasn't...not exactly, kind of...he was..."

"What was he?" asked Hermione, eager to get the conversation moving, in case they had to retreat quickly again.

"You won't believe me, or talk to me, if I tell you," Jane said.

"We don't have time for games," said Ginny sternly, "We're already in the biggest bloody pickle because of you, so just tell us!"

"My great grandfather was John Massey. The one you faced in 1943."

"Shit!" said Hermione. "So that's where he comes in. Do you know what happened to him?"

"No, not after your duel," said Jane. "That was part of my...instructions, to find out from you."

"Figures," said Ginny. "Makes all the teacher's pet thing, even more transparent."

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," Jane was adamant. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be."

"What were you going to do?"

"I was to find my four-times great grandfather, John Massey, and tell him about where I had come from and about my mother and her family." Jane paused. "I was supposed to only change a very small thing, possibly more to facilitate it, but it was to make sure that the Masseys actually owned the Hanged Man pub."

"They did own it in the 1940s," said Hermione.

"No, they didn't," said Jane. "It was owned by the Riddles. When the John Massey you met disappeared, my great grandmother couldn't keep up with the rent. He was just as bad with money as my parents. So not long after his disappearance, my great grandmother Ada had to leave the pub and...and there started the downward trend of working poor jobs and barely paying the rent."

"Are you sure killing your professor wouldn't be a better choice?" said Ginny, with a stern jaw. "Then she wouldn't face Massey and he wouldn't go missing."

"He was still bad with money, they would have lost the pub anyway," answered Jane. "In fact, it could be said that it would have been better to meet him much earlier and get rid of him before he could ruin their finances."

"How were you supposed to change any of that fate here? And why?" asked Hermione.

"Pose as cousins to Mr. Riddle...ingratiate ourselves...Before Tobias Riddle dies, my parents were pretty sure on that. So I needed to make the pub come into the family."

"And what? He suddenly gifts you the pub completely?!" exclaimed an incredulous Ginny.

"Sort of," said Jane. "It would mean we had property and a business, so even when my great grandfather goes missing, Ada, doesn't have to leave and we have something to build on."

"But if you're supposed to be Riddles, then the name wouldn't be Massey?" Ginny suggested.

"Well, after a time the fake Riddles would officially pass it over to the Massey family," answered Jane.

"So the Tudor thing really _was_ a bluff?"asked Hermione, deep in thought.

"Again, my mother did the work, on the family trees of several of my class mates...I can't really call them friends. But we couldn't go back then, because there were way too many variables and too much risk."

"Risk? And this bloody isn't?!" Ginny said in almost a growl in trying to keep her voice down. Hermione laid her hand on her arm.

"It's all gone too far," said Jane desperate. "It wasn't supposed to go like this...and it's not just the pub...he always wants more. I've never felt so tired in all my life."

"It's probably because you're holding that glamour," said Ginny. "It can be tiring to maintain it over long periods of time."

"The day you left, your trying to kiss me, another plan?" Hermione asked, intrigued to know the answer.

"I'm sorry about that too. It was a last try at maybe getting you to come with me," Jane, shook her head. "You're nice, and all that...but..."

"You must be crazy, if you think kissing my wife was going to corrupt her into agreeing to your plan," said Ginny, beguiled.

"It, was to...well, if her guard was down I could have used..."

"_Imperius_?" said Hermione.

"Except I couldn't...I _know_ I couldn't use it, my Mum, she..."

"Is a warped woman!" finished Ginny.

"What were the other students. from RTW, supposed to be doing?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing," answered Jane. "The others thought they were going to 1526."

"You're mother's idea again?" Ginny asked. "Deception?"

"It was supposed to make this more safe...but it _all_ sounds ridiculous, now."

"Too bloody right it does!" said Ginny.

"When I left I heard some explosions, what happened?" Jane asked, nervously.

"The other Time-Turners blew up," said Hermione. "The other students are okay, that's all you need to know."

"Everything had seemed so simple...my Mum had everything worked out, it all sounded fine. I was concerned, of course...but I suppose pressure makes people see things less clearly...I have no other excuse."

"We can't get into all that, now. Where's Massey's wife?" asked Hermione, suddenly, not wanting to think of a couple of students ending up in 1526 and not finding their friends there, nor anyone to help, along with what _kind_ of pressure Jane's parents _had_ put on her.

"She...oh bugger..." Jane cut off at the sound of footsteps.

Hermione and Ginny melded back into the undergrowth.

"What ya doing out here, girl?" said the unmistakable voice of Morten Gaunt.

"Looking for some herbs, around the base of the trees," she said quite calmly, considering.

"Herbs, is it?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yes, look: pink clover, wild garlic..."

"I know what they are, girl. Well hadn't you better be getting back to the house. Your father didn't want you wandering off."

They heard footsteps begin to walk away, then Jane say: "I left a cutting, I'll just get it." She came back to the base of the tree, behind which Ginny and Hermione were hardly daring to breathe.

"Meet me here tomorrow," she whispered quickly. "11am. I'll try to get here. Gaunt will be at the inquest with Riddle. But nothing is how it seems, or looks...I...gotta go."

And with that Jane was off back to the house. They waited for a couple of minutes, not moving, trying to listen for any sound that Gaunt might have stayed back, suspicious of what might have been going on. After five minutes Ginny dared to look, slowly peeping around the tree.

"Clear," she said, then got hold of Hermione's arm and Side-Along Apparated them back to Shibden.

Hermione immediately flopped back on the bed, letting out a couple of panting breaths, sweat pouring down her face. Ginny opened her own enchanted bag and pulled out an enchanted flask and poured them out a tea, nudging a mug into Hermione's hand. They then lifted their glamours.

"It's troll logic," said the brunette. "Utter troll logic!"

"Whatever it is, I'd like to be in a room alone with her parents for a few minutes," said Ginny. "A few seconds might be enough. Of all the twisted, poisonous arseholes!"

"I can't worry about them now, we have too much to worry about here."

"So what are they doing in Halifax?" Ginny wondered.

"Something to do with deeds, is what Jane thought," Hermione stood up. "Maybe Anne knows who this Parker is, or what he does in Halifax?"

Hermione went out quietly onto the landing, listening to where other occupants of the house might be. Not hearing anyone nearby, she went downstairs and found no one until she reached the kitchen.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" said Joseph, the footman as he walked up to her.

"Is Miss Lister around?" Hermione asked. "The younger Miss Anne."

"She should be back soon, she was seeing to a delivery of trees down the fields. Do you want me to fetch her?"

"We'd like to see her when she gets back, we'll be up in our room," said Hermione. "Thank you."

"Very good ma'am."

Once back in the Red Room, Hermione brought out a couple of the usual books, and looked at the landowners lists, it still had Riddle at both the house and the pub.

"Is it really so simple as getting some deeds changed?" asked Ginny. "If so, why kill all these people?"

"It definitely sounds like that wasn't Jane's plan, and probably not her parents' either, despite how cold and calculating they seem."

The two women changed out of their green clothes and put on navy and burgundy dresses; smart but not overdressed.

About half an hour later there was a knock and Anne Lister walked in, unable to hide an expectant look on her face. "What news?"

They told her about their short conversation and the carriage. "I'm sure it's a common name, but do you know a man named Parker in Halifax and what he might do in relation to house ownership?"asked Hermione.

Anne looked uneasy. "I know Mr. Parker. He's my solicitor."

"Solicitor," repeated Hermione. "So he would be able to deal with deeds?"

"Yes, he deals with all kinds of things; tenancy, land sales and so on," said Anne.

"In this time, is it easy to change the name of the owner on the deeds?" Ginny asked.

"It depends," said Anne. "On the circumstances and how they want to change it; whether it is a gift, an inheritance or a few other possibilities. All are watched for any tax evading issues."

"That much hasn't changed in our time," said Hermione. "How long would it take for a change of name on the deeds?"

"Again, it depends how simple it is, and how it is being done," Anne said. "The simplest of contracts can be done in days, other more complex things can take weeks and often need to be reworded and signed multiple times before going through."

Hermione actually groaned. "Weeks?! We could be here weeks?"

"Not in the job description," said Ginny, with an encouraging grin, before she said more seriously. "We knew it could be complex; be thankful it wasn't 1526!"

"There could be a way to know a bit more," said Anne. "I could go and see Mr. Parker tomorrow morning and ask him."

"Isn't that sort of information confidential? Wouldn't it be..." Hermione saw an amused twinkle in Anne Lister's eyes, with a smile bordering on smug.

"Yes, normally," Anne said. "I'm not normal. I'm not just 'people'. I put a lot of business Mr. Parker's way, as does my aunt and father. He might tell me out of duty to the fact a recently deceased tenant of mine is connected to it all. And he might just tell me because...well..."

"You're you," said Ginny. Half of her was irritated with the confidence and nerve of the woman, the other half was a little in awe. "The right kind of people."

"If you're prepared to do that, then we'll accept your offer," said Hermione. "We need any information we can get."

"That's settled, then," said Anne. "I'll go after breakfast first thing tomorrow."

Hermione looked very tired when she said, "We can travel distances in time, in seconds, travel to places in seconds, but this part of the deal always takes forever, because we can't hop ahead of a development, not knowing what the hell will be there if we do. Hours feel like days."

"In that case, have an early light dinner and join me on another walk. I'll keep you distracted for the evening," Anne offered. "In truth, we'll keep all of us distracted."

"It's not like we have anything else to do," said Ginny.

"We accept," said Hermione.

XXXXXXXXX

A couple of hours later, after a light dinner, the two witches were back out walking with Anne Lister to another part of her estate. She walked them up to higher ground to look over the valley-like scenery below, which looked stunning in the summer evening light.

"Do you walk much in your own time?" Anne asked. "Or do you travel in the way you took me to see the body the other night?"

"Depends what we're doing," said Hermione. "In the magical world it's easier to travel vast distances by Apparating, but if we're in normal non-magical places we have to take more care. We've used anything from buses - like you saw on that photo of us in London – trains, airplanes, cars, anything that's needed."

Anne sat down on a grassy hummock and Hermione and Ginny joined her, before she asked almost timidly, "Is this how you really look? Or is this another face you've been showing me all this time?"

"This is most definitely us," replied Ginny straight away. "To try and hold a glamour day after day would be really tiring, which is another reason Jane is so stressed."

"I see," Anne answered, the other two women almost sure they could hear the cogs in her brain mulling something over. "You've been incredibly lucky with your skin, your teeth?"

"Skin and teeth?" Ginny looked confused.

"No scars from childhood, no missing or less than perfect teeth?"

"Oh!" Hermione realized what Anne was asking. "Dental health and hygiene is much better...and my parents are dentists, in my case. And don't get sniffy about my parents being dentists..."

"Sniffy?" asked a confused Anne.

"Looking down on it," elaborated Hermione. "To train to be a dentist requires proper medical training for dental surgeries and the drugs that are used. All dentists have to be registered with proper certification, none of the brutal butchery of some of the dentists in this era."

"I will refrain from being...sniffy," said Anne, unable to stop a smile reaching her lips. "And the skin, never had small pox?"

"There is no small pox in our time, hasn't been for a couple of decades. Most people get chicken pox as children, but you have to be unlucky to get any lasting scars with that, and it's very mild, usually."

"How? How is there no small pox?" Anne was fascinated and troubled.

Hermione explained vaccination, which wasn't a foreign concept to Anne, as even in this time there had been experiments with types of vaccination for small pox. The brunette was thinking of Edward Jenner and his discovery and experiments with cow pox and the milk maid, but looked up and saw the troubled expression. "What's wrong?"

"If there is no small pox where you are from and nobody is vaccinated any more, then surely you could both get ill with it now?"

"I don't think so," said Hermione. "After our last foray into time travel we both did a lot of research, and from purely theory it looks likely that we inherit some of our immunity from our parents and grandparents. The theory is pretty sound, as it also takes in that a person from modern times couldn't catch a cold or influenza from a hundred years before or more, because they already have the immunity from those viruses in our bodies. It's like a vast memory bank passed down to each generation."

Anne went very quiet for a moment. "So you cannot get ill here?"

"Only if we do something really stupid," said Ginny. "That theory isn't likely to cover eating raw meat, or doing any number of daft things."

"Neither Ginny nor me can get tetanus, diphtheria, typhoid, polio, measles, mumps or rubella, because we were vaccinated as children and again as young adults or when travelling, although she was under the care of magical doctors, I was brought up in a non-magical family. Even TB, tuberculosis - which is often called consumption here - is something I doubt we could catch here. More powerful strains are still around in our time, but it's not usually a threat to the general populace."

"It doesn't mean we're invincible," said Ginny. "We're still human, just a bit more protected by time and modern medicine."

"I assume that childbirth is still as potentially fatal?" wondered Anne, with a look of distaste.

"It's always dangerous, of course, but only a small percentage of women in the western world die," Hermione explained. "And infant deaths are not as common either, certainly not from the things babies and children die of here."

"So, a family of ten children might all live, for certain?"

"As certain as you can be, I suppose," said Hermione.

Anne turned to Ginny. "Yet, you had a brother die?"

"He was an adult," Ginny exhaled a breath. "He was killed by magic, during a battle...of sorts."

"I'm sorry, I know what it is like to lose a much loved brother," said Anne with genuine sympathy. "Surely housing is more of a problem with more people surviving to adulthood?"

Hermione tried to explain about housing always being an issue, but that the population was over sixty million in the United Kingdom, which shocked their new friend a great deal, and people didn't always have such large families and she tried to explain the concept of contraception, and the type that actually mostly worked.

"This all sounds like folk tales to my ears," said Anne. "I find it a little disturbing. Humans are capable of such amazing things if they put their minds to it, but even so, it's beyond what I can imagine. I'm not sure I would find my way in your time."

"You'd probably be running the country!" said Ginny.

Anne allowed herself a little soundless laugh. "I would be lost. So much sounds wonderful, but so much of it would worry me, I admit."

"Well, if it makes you feel better," Ginny continued. "We were scared stiff to learn where we were going at short notice, before arriving here."

"I think you both have a lot of courage," Anne smiled at them both. "I think that quality was something that drew me to you."

"Not just our ridiculous entrance in the church?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

"That too, of course," said Anne. "I knew I _had_ to know more."

"And now you wish you'd never got involved?!" stated Ginny.

"I am, as yet, uncertain about that," said Anne with a quizzical stare at them both.

"We thought it was a bit of an unconventional speed of invite," said Hermione, before adding, to make it sound more generalized. "The etiquette we know of this time, would suggest we wouldn't normally be ingratiated so fast, especially without prior knowledge of our background or status."

Anne was staring at Hermione. "You know, you have a wonderful turn of phrase; eloquent and intellectual but with a lot of the colloquial. It's a...rare mix."

"Yeah, they broke the mould when they made her," said Ginny, with a laugh, as Hermione mock slapped her arm.

There was silence for a time, and they all looked out at the setting sun over the scenery below, an barn owl's ghostly passage flitting across a lower field.

"I envy you, both of you," Anne said, quietly and in such a way that neither of the other two women spoke or interrupted and she sighed, her shoulders dropping. "There is one thing that I wish for. Without which I'm certain I will have no true happiness. To love and be loved...truly."

Hermione wanted to blurt out that there _would_ be a woman by her side to share her life, eventually, even though it would not always be happy, but she couldn't really hint that, so she deflected it. "Love often happens when you least expect it, and from a place you would not expect it either. Where you expect nothing, a light can shine and hope is there." She put her hand on Anne's and gave the hand a light squeeze. "Always have hope."

"If you know of me, from your time, do..."

"I can't answer that," Hermione patted the hand, and quickly thought of an answer that might cover everything without admitting full knowledge. "Please don't ask us. Besides we only know generalized things. Big events, monarchs and Prime Minsters, wars and disasters. The other people that populate our history are not always that detailed. There were no specific Anne Lister lessons."

Anne actually laughed at that. "I suppose I can't expect to compete with kings and wars." There was a short silence. "Yet, you know about me, about my romantic feeling. How? Whom was it that spoke of it?"

_Oh fuck! _Thought Hermione. _How do I get out of this one?_

"No one person," Ginny stepped in. "Rumours, mostly."

"Ah yes, those vulgar entities," said Anne, resignedly. "Plagued me most of my life and appears after it too."

"It's not just that, it's a culmination of things," said Hermione, recovering herself. "And upon meeting you, we just knew. Other women like us, often know when we see a...like-minded woman."

"I wish it were so obvious to me, sometimes," said Anne.

"You were drawn to us," stated Hermione. "I would say you have that ability. It's just that at this time, people have to be a lot more careful and some women don't even have the words to describe that they like the look of a woman in the village more than the man they're supposedly engaged to."

"Ah, that could well be the heart of the matter," said Anne, with a charming smile. "So, I will be patient, but on guard for love that happens when I least expect it, or is reciprocated when not expecting it." She looked dreamy for a moment then got to her feet, taking hold of Hermione's hand, getting her to stand up, she added. "However strong your...what did you call it? Immunity? Yes, however strong that is, I'm sure it doesn't stretch to catching a chill. The sun will set soon. Let us get back before it's too dark and not give my sister an excuse to chew my ear off! There are days...most days in fact, when I hate conflict from that quarter."


	10. Chapter 10 Signed

Chapter Ten - "Signed"

On arriving back at Shibden Hall it was getting dark and the two witches decided to turn in for the night, knowing that the next morning could potentially be full of information, or new problems.

"Don't get sniffy?!" said Ginny, flopping on the bed laughing. "That's the sort of thing _I'd_ come out with."

"Yes, well, it slipped out," said Hermione, ruffled. "She understood it...after explanation."

Ginny looked serious for a moment and made sure they had set the silencing and locking charms on the room and door. "It's getting difficult with some of her questions."

"I know," Hermione said as she sat on the end of the bed. "Part of me really wants to tell her, but we can't do that."

"Perhaps love would still win?"

"And perhaps it wouldn't and although I still cling to the theory that big events may not be affected, we know the little things can be. In the scheme of things, maybe whom she chooses to share her life with is in debate and not set in stone."

"So far, we're managing to patch over the issues," said Ginny. "We'll have to manage somehow."

"Even when it makes me incredibly sad to think of how she dies and where," Hermione said downcast. "That bit might not be changeable and she was doing something she loved and travelling, but what an utter waste?! The phrase 'gone too soon' is used too much, but it's the truth here."

"Life isn't fair."

"No, it isn't." Hermione took off her shoes. "I know she wasn't a saint, a lot of things she did would be morally questionable; like the way she pressured tenants to vote in elections and some of her coal mining practice and child labour, like most from this era, but she's such a live wire of intellect, humour and courage. You might not see her like that, though."

"To begin with, no," said Ginny, resting her elbow on a knee and her chin on her hand. "But I get it. I really get it. She walks into a room and it's like letting a Cornish pixie loose...you can't not look at it and wonder what's going to happen next, half with dread and the other half with awe."

"'Anne Lister: My Life as a Cornish Pixie'," said Hermione. "It could work as a title."

"I'm serious, Hermione," Ginny reached for one of Hermione's hands. "She lights up any room she's in. When she pays a person any attention it's like you're locked in and cannot look anywhere else. And you know you should try and look somewhere else, but you can't. And knowing what I know, it's hard not to imagine taking her waistcoat off for her...and maybe her shirt..."

"Oh dear, are you smitten too?" asked Hermione, only half joking.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," said Ginny. "But it's still you she's captivated by."

"Not of my doing," said Hermione, as she turned and wrapped her arms around Ginny.

"You don't need to do anything," said Ginny, nuzzling Hermione's neck. "You just being you works on most people."

"She's fairly captivating herself," said Hermione.

"If you got the chance, I wouldn't object to you getting closer to her," said Ginny.

"Oh, not that again?!" said Hermione rolling her eyes. "You're not serious?!"

"I don't know, but I know the thought really doesn't worry me...it turns me on...," said Ginny. "Which must make me really weird. It must just be the Anne Lister effect?! She likes you more than me, it would be interesting...is all. As long as you told me all about it."

"You're getting kinkier with age?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, though the thought of kissing Anne Lister did give her a little excitement inside.

"See?" said Ginny with a crooked smile. "You're _thinking_ about it. And I've seen something close to that expression way back when you started to read about her."

"Guilty as charged, then." Hermione, shrugged her shoulders. "It's the wondering part..."

They shared some gentle kisses, before changing for bed, and settling down lying close together, Hermione's arm draped over Ginny.

XXXXXXXXXX

Anne Lister wasn't at breakfast the next morning; Aunt Anne told them she had left early to get into Halifax. Although the two witches knew she would be going, they kept neutral faces. A pleasant breakfast was had with Aunt Anne, Marian and Jeremy Lister.

Ginny and Hermione went back up to their room afterwards, to get out the subdued clothing from the day before to meet with Jane again shortly.

"Anne's father always seems about twenty minutes behind the current conversation topic," said Ginny. "It makes it hard to really talk to him."

"It's like his batteries are getting low and he needs a recharge," said Hermione, which made Ginny laugh.

It was nearly half past ten, with Hermione and Ginny getting ready, hoping that Anne would appear soon, or they would have to wait until they got back from Little Hangleton.

Another ten minutes and a knock on their door sounded and it was Anne, not looking unduly tired, or out of breath, from what must have been a brisk walk.

"Off for your meeting?" Anne asked, although she knew the answer. She brought out her pocket watch, flipped open the case. "Ah, we still have a few minutes."

"News?" asked Hermione, almost impatiently.

Anne look at her, shut her pocket watch with a deliberate snap before slipping it back into a pocket. "Yes."

"So, was ownership of the pub changed, or the house?"

"Not exactly," said Anne, as she seated herself on a chair in the room. "They didn't go to Parker about deeds. They went to discuss a will."

"Riddle's I presume?" asked Hermione. "Won't that take a while to go through if he writes a new will?"

"Only a codicil. You know what that is?" asked Anne.

"Yeah, an addition or correction to the existing will, I assume that is the same here?"

"Yes. Anyway, that's what they saw Parker about."

"Shit!" said Ginny, not bothering to cover her language. "That most likely means another body and soon."

Hermione already had her hand to her head as the same thought struck her. She quickly fished out the landowners book and checked the now well-thumbed page and still both properties remained in the name Riddle. "Not dead yet, then."

"Thanks for getting that information for us," Ginny said to Anne. "It gives us more to work on."

"Did Parker say if the 'cousin' was present the whole time?" Hermione asked.

"I thought that might be interesting, as it so obviously appears that that Massey man is bullying, or blackmailing, or holding something over Riddle's head. I was prepared to point out that it might be wise not to pass the codicil, if there was any intimidation involved. But he said that after Riddle had stated his purpose, that his cousin left to wait in the hall. He would have asked him to leave anyway, to make sure it was not coercion. He then came back in when called to finish the business."

"Maybe Massey has managed to convince Riddle that they really _are_ his relatives?" wondered Hermione.

"Well, the old chap is clearly not all there," said Anne. "I'm not sure he would take much persuading."

"Didn't you have a book on wills and probate?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"I did, and I didn't pack that one," said the brunette, shaking her head. "I wasn't aware legal documents would be needed. The last thing I would have thought of."

"Oh well, can't be helped," said Ginny.

Anne got out her watch again. "Ten-fifty-six. You may want to get to your meeting."

"Yes," said Hermione, snapping out of her thought processes. "We'll meet you back here...however long this takes...later."

"Take care," Anne said.

Ginny took Hermione's arm and Side-Along Apparated them to the clump of trees and undergrowth again.

They quickly crouched, then knelt into the bracken and ferns. Again they waited a while, it was nearly 11.15am before they heard any movement of footsteps approaching. As before, they didn't dare to move or breathe too loudly. Once more they heard a quiet humming of the Hogwarts song.

Hermione peered slowly around the tree and saw Jane standing there. "We're here," she whispered.

This time Jane walked past them a few paces, crouched and studied something near her feet. "I'm paranoid. I'll keep moving about while we talk. I don't want anyone creeping up on me."

Jane walked quite a long way from them, then turned casually back, poking at the ferns and weeds at the garden boundary.

"Haven't they all gone to the inquest?" asked Ginny.

"Gaunt and er...Riddle have," Jane answered. "But my father is in the house."

"We know about Parker and changing the will," Hermione whispered loud enough for Jane to hear.

"That was the only part that was original to the plan," Jane replied.

"How are you making Riddle do as you ask?"

"Me? It's not me."

"Whatever!?" said Ginny, a little irritably. "Why is Riddle doing this? Is he under _Imperius_?"

A few paces away, Jane crouched again as if adjusting her shoe. "No, although that was a possible way to do it, painlessly. The thing is...Riddle isn't himself."

"Anyone can see he isn't playing with a full set!" said Ginny.

"No, he's not him," said Jane.

"Explain, and quickly," said Hermione, her mind going in different directions, thinking of other spells that might cause subservience.

"It's Massey's wife, my four-times-great grandmother, she's being Riddle," said Jane.

"What?! Where the hell is the real one?!" Ginny said, a little more loudly than she intended and made the other two wince. "Sorry," she whispered.

"He's...," Jane stood up again and walked several paces away, then stared at the trees with almost botanical interest, using her out-stretched hand as if taking a perspective measurement. Then she walked to the left of the two hidden women before saying more. "He's dead."

"Shit, I knew there'd be another body," said Ginny.

"Did you kill him?" asked Hermione. "The truth..."

"No, I haven't killed anyone," said Jane immediately, with no hesitation. "But he's been dead since we arrived at the house on Sunday evening."

"Where's the body?" Hermione wondered straight away.

"You were right next to it yesterday," Jane said. "My 'father' got a bit agitated when you went with me to look at the portraits in that room."

"Oh gods, _that_ was the smell?!"

"We tried to cover it, but summer isn't ever going to make that easy," said Jane, sounding revolted.

"Is it still there?" asked Hermione.

"No, it was moved last night to the cellar."

"It's not going to smell much better down there," said Hermione, unable to stop from wrinkling her nose.

"Who killed him and who killed the other Riddle?" Ginny pressed.

"My fa...Massey, at the farmhouse. And him at the pub, with Gaunt's help later," Jane paused and made as if pulling up a weed or herb, and looking at it closely.

"And where's Riddle's wife?" asked Ginny.

"She was in the room too," Jane said in a low voice.

"Also dead? So she's in the cellar too, now?" asked Hermione.

"No, she was moved last night...Sheffield or Edinburgh, I heard them say."

"Body snatching route," said Hermione, shaking her head.

"You know about the body snatching?" Jane asked, initially surprised.

"Yes, I know about that horrible business," said the brunette, with distaste. "Why not send them both?"

"He needs the Riddle body to appear at the right moment, or disappear, depending what he decides and how the papers go through," Jane replied.

"Your original plan was to get the will changed in a friendly way?" Hermione inquired, trying to get things straight. "But now four people are dead?!"

"I did not want that to happen," Jane said, almost pleading. "My f...father..._him_, said the only full proof way to be certain of the property, is to get rid of the obstacles. I don't think he meant to kill Tobias Riddle, but I think _he_ could see through the fraud and that we were not his family at all. We tried _Imperius_ on him, but it didn't work properly for some reason and he just laughed when we suggested he change his will. He was threatened and all we got out of him was something about his papers being lodged with Mr. Parker in Halifax and that the will wouldn't do us much good without him present for all the details. Even under_ Imperius_ he couldn't be trusted to do as he was asked. I even tried to compromise and just get the pub, but my _companions_ wanted more. "

"Massey obviously doesn't have much patience," observed Ginny.

"No...he has a bit of a temper and...he's..."

"He's a nasty piece of work. The codicil has been done, then your vow must soon be finished?" Ginny continued.

"I hope so," said the younger woman. "It was supposed to be all done once the will was changed. He died this year anyway."

"I see," said Hermione, evaluating her idea about some events always going to happen no matter how changes are made. "Has Parker told him when the codicil will go through?"

"The finished copy of the papers should be delivered tomorrow morning, apparently," Jane said walking closer to them now. "It was a very simple alteration, which only needed a counter-signature."

"We'll come back tomorrow," said Hermione. "Try to get yourself out of that vow. Say you've done everything you promised your family, that everything has been done and you can go back to your parents now, as there's nothing more you can do. I don't know, say every day you're here risks discovery."

"I'll try," Jane said uncertainly, as she poked at another clump of weeds. "Come here at 12pm. We should have the papers of the will, and I might know more."

"All right, tomorrow 12pm," said Hermione.

"I've got to go," Jane said nervously. "I've been here too long already." She then crouched, cut some daisies and buttercups and then walked back to the house.

Ginny said nothing, but clasped Hermione's arm and nodded, before taking them back to the Red Room. They were surprised to see that Anne was still there.

"Don't think I've been searching through your things..." Anne said defensively.

"Apart from some clothes, there's not much to search through, anyway," said Ginny, amused by the thought of Anne Lister possibly searching through their clothing and underwear.

"I wouldn't do that," Anne said seriously.

"We know," said Hermione. The two newly arrived women told Anne about their meeting with Jane.

"Whatever happens, I don't think you can change that codicil," said Anne.

"I'm not sure we even thought of trying," said Hermione. "Things now seem beyond anything we can change."

"All three Riddle men dead and the wife," said Ginny. "We can't change a bloody thing about that, unless we go back, in time, and pounce on a situation...but..."

"We could meet ourselves," said Hermione. "That would not end well...it never does. Or perhaps results in something worse. So far it seems the only change is the Masseys owning the pub, but obviously they're attempting for the house too, now; how that will change things for Jane, I'm not sure, but it's a small fact, it's just taken four murders to get there."

"It would appear you must concentrate your focus on getting back this idiot of a girl, Jane," said Anne Lister. "It seems as though they have knocked down all opposition to them in the will."

"It's about the only thing we have left," said Ginny. "Getting her away from that Massey bloke could be difficult."

"Could you not dispose of him?" Anne asked, with no hint of amusement.

"No, if it can be avoided," said Hermione. "If he dies now, I may not face his descendant later, and while that would seem a good thing, it could alter things too much. If they have grown up children then we have no way of knowing that now...but even if...I'm not...as it is, I'm hoping their owning the pub won't change things by 1943."

"Despite our bravado," said Ginny, seeing her wife stumble over the idea of killing a Massey. "Neither of us can just kill. It's a last resort, last defence, not something we would seek out."

"Well it's obvious what I have to do next," Anne said, brushing down her skirt.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Get back to Halifax and find out what was said at the inquest."

"That's a long way to keep going to and from," said Hermione.

"Nonsense, I'll be there and back in a couple of hours, allowing for information, of course." Anne stood up. "Make use of the study, I'll get you some lunch sent in."

With that, Anne was out of the room like a whirlwind and had already got downstairs before Hermione and Ginny moved.

"She _is_ being helpful, though," said Ginny, "I'm not sure we could get that information so easily as she can; not without us having to do some bizarre double-act routine and a bunch of lies."

Once down in the study, having been brought some bread and cheese and some salad and fruit, Hermione brought out her landowners book. She almost dreaded checking the page, now she knew what she knew, it was just a matter of time before she expected the name to change. At that moment though it still remained under Riddle ownership.

They picked up some books from around the study, and Hermione also brought out a book of maps to read within another book, in case they were disturbed and needed to hide anything quickly.

"This feels so familiar," said Ginny, looking at a book on herbal remedies. "In fact I think it's the same book we have at home, only a larger publication." She set down a copy of Culpeper's Complete Herbal book.

"I expect it's been printed and reprinted a few times," said Hermione, as she looked at the distances between Shibden, Halifax and Little Hangleton in her map book, almost willing a book of maps to tell her everything that was going on.

"And this 'reading books we don't really want to, just to pass time'; way too familiar!"

"We work together pretty well, though."

"I noticed that not long after we arrived here, it was like I was locked into that mode again that we had back in the 1940s. The difference being that we seem a little more assured of ourselves this time; like we know what's going on," Ginny looked at Hermione's astounded expression. "Okay, maybe not what's going on, _exactly_, but more assured of playing the part and not making too much of a mess of it."

"What I hate this time, is that we're only piecing things together just after they happen and not being able to change anything. Before, we sort of orchestrated the situations ourselves."

"On the bright side," said Ginny, as she picked up another book. "I haven't thought about the pubic hair thing once since I last mentioned it."

"I was hoping you'd forgotten that?!"

"So was I."

It was nearly 3pm when they heard Anne get back, talking to the footman Joseph as she walked through. She looked into the study, and finding the two women there, came in, shutting the door behind her.

"Accidental death or foul play?" asked Hermione.

"I spoke with one of Parker's clerks who sits in on inquests," said Anne, as she sat down, pouring herself a little wine into a glass. "It was a suicide verdict, with the cause of having the balance of his mind disturbed, from debts and marital breakdown."

"So no one offered any doubts?"

"It appears not. And Gaunt _did_ appear," Anne took another sip. "I don't know exactly what he said, but I expect it all correlated nicely and didn't give the coroner too much to object to."

"All so convenient," said Hermione. "That Massey bloke might be nasty and rough around the edges, but he seems to have some element of planning."

"I've left instructions with a couple of discreet people, including the clerk, that if anything involving the Riddle estate or cases comes up, that I'd like to know straight away." Anne smiled. "As one of the unfortunates was my tenant."

"That could be helpful," agreed Hermione. She then slapped her book shut, placing it back into her beaded bag. "I know you've been walking miles already today, but any chance we could take some fresh air for a couple of hours?"

"I'd happily walk all day," said Anne, looking enthusiastic at the prospect.

They spent a long late afternoon, with Anne Lister taking them to another beautiful place, looking down on farmland and stone walls criss-crossing the landscape. Apart from a few sheep and cattle, not much moved. A horse and cart trotted through a lane and a couple of farming women walked past in the other direction. Their position, sat up on the hill, made Hermione feel a bit like a bird of prey surveying their killing grounds, and feeling it literally so, although they hadn't done the actual killing themselves.

Making sure that no one else was nearby, Hermione brought out her phone and took a couple of photos of the scenery much to the fascination of Anne.

"I doubt there are many paintings in your time, if one can simply capture a scene with that tool?" Anne surmised.

"There are still lots of paintings. Art will always be revered and created," said Hermione. "This just allows us to revisit a place and time by a flick of the finger."

Hermione then flicked the camera to take a selfie, quickly lined up the three of them and captured the photo. She showed Anne. "You're in my phone's memory bank now."

"Hmm, I'm not sure I would ever get used to that."

"Photos start to be used in the next decade," said Hermione. "But don't tell anyone about that. By the second half of this century, most people will have been photographed in some way, but it's a while before full colour comes in, or the technology I'm using here."

"How far can progress go?" wondered Anne aloud. "If indeed it is progress?"

"I'd agree that some so-called progress isn't that good," said Hermione. "I suppose progress will go as far as people can take it and have the ideas and means to achieving it."

"I don't know if there's a limit on progress, or can be," offered Ginny.

After a pause of silence, Hermione sighed. "It's that time thing again, now. A feeling of not having enough and too much at the same time."

"Well, at least we know why Gaunt got a pay rise," said Ginny. "It was to help them, and it was Massey's wife playing the part. I'd say he probably knows who they really are by now."

"I wonder how much the wife _is_ part of it?" said Hermione.

"You don't think she is a willing participant?" Anne replied.

"From what we learned from Jane, I don't think she had anything to do with the murders, although I suppose she's technically an accessory to murder, and from what we saw of Riddle, now we know it was her impersonating him, what we took for dementia could have been nerves and uncertainty, perhaps even fear of her husband?"

"We'd only know that, if we ever get to the end of this and have a chance to actually see for ourselves," said Ginny. "I'm not sure we could exactly free her. Maybe she doesn't even want to be freed."

"Maybe she doesn't deserve to be, even if you could," stated Anne, plainly.

"Well at least we know why Massey became a Riddle, and why the wife became Tobias," said Hermione. "I would say it's because, as he is, he can control things better; as Tobias Riddle he would be limited and have to rely on Jane and his wife to be the support group. It was actually safer for him for the wife to become the old uncle."

They had a pleasant dinner with all of Anne's family back at Shibden and another pleasant evening with Anne showing them some things around the Hall; paintings and carvings, with its history and her connection to everything. The two witches then went to bed fairly early.

With the two women close together, their arms around each other, Hermione felt tired.

"I hope there's no more deaths," she said, struggling to fight off a yawn.

"I think we all hope that," said Ginny. "So Thomas Riddle's wife? What will they actually do with her? You said body snatchers supplied medical schools."

"Yes, they needed bodies to dissect to learn, but demand was always higher than supply," Hermione yawned again. "So, she'll be cut open, cut up, whatever they need to use to learn about the body and the parts. Everything I've read has always seemed to suggest that the bodies were treated respectfully by the schools and students."

"Then what...when they've finished?"

"Sometimes not so respectful. She could be put in a mass grave, but maybe not whole, with other bodies and parts."

"It seems a bit sad that four people from the same family have died," said Ginny.

"Yes, don't think on it too much, we can't do anything about it," Hermione said, resting her head on Ginny's shoulder and relaxing. "Besides they might all have died this year anyway, as Jane suggested about Tobias."

XXXXXXXXX

The next morning the women awoke at 8.30am, they kissed, and had some short intimate moments before getting up for the day.

They washed, the maid leaving water outside their room's door earlier, as they had arranged, but letting it be known that they preferred cold water, to cover any question of warm water being needed, so not needing to be disturbed.

They were sat at breakfast before 9.30am. Aunt Anne was later getting up that day and Anne's father wasn't yet there, but Anne and her sister Marian arrived around the same time.

"So what is it you two are doing?" Marian asked their two guests.

Hermione wondered what she meant, and Ginny was caught off guard too.

"Eating some toast, I think you'll find," Anne answered for them.

"Not that, it's obvious you're doing something, and my sister is involved. What is it?" Marian asked again.

Hermione was about to answer but Anne got there first. "Not something they can discuss, nor I."

"Is it that curious work you say you do, but can't speak of?"

"You don't have to answer," said Anne.

"It's all right," said Hermione, then turned to Marian. "We apologize if we've disrupted you at all, or unsettled you, but it is something to do with our...contacts. We have to finish something before we can move on. A lot of paperwork to sort out too."

"Satisfied, Marian?" asked her older sister.

"I was only asking, what with comings and goings."

"Been taking notes and times?"

"No, but I expect _you_ have," said Marian, then mumbled. "And probably taking the temperature every five minutes too."

Anne took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, while mildly shaking her head as if to dislodge an insect buzzing around her. "I will not start the day like this."

"You started it," Marian said, pouting.

"As one who has had six siblings," interjected Ginny. "Can I say that, those sentences never get anywhere. Usually it leads to further deterioration and no one actually wins anything, except further annoyance."

Marian blushed crimson, with Anne not looking quite so confident. _Oh shit, I've done some big etiquette balls-up,_ Ginny thought. "Err, sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, no...you're quite right," said Marian. She finished her cup of tea then got up and left. "I'm going to Market Weighton today. In case you wondered. And with the comings and goings I'm taking Aunt Anne and our father with me for a couple of days."

"Oh," said Anne. After Marian had left the room she added. "That's always her response when she loses our skirmishes: back to Market Weighton! Still, it's perhaps as well that she's taking my aunt and father with her."

"But you haven't won anything," stated Ginny. "You've only made each other ratty and irritable."

"However you think things are, my sister and I will never get along. She is jealous and that jealousy and constant bothering over her non-existent inheritance wears away at me. I show her more patience than anyone else would."

"Perhaps marry her off and let her bother someone else," suggested Hermione, knowing that Anne had objected to anyone Marian had shown an interest in, for a variety of reasons.

"If only I could," said Anne, thoughtfully. "She has the most appalling taste and without my careful steering she would be a married embarrassment, rather than an unmarried annoyance. And another thing..."

The footman Joseph walked in. "Ma'am," he said to Anne. "A messenger arrived with this." He handed over a letter.

"No one waiting for a reply?"

"No ma'am."

"Thank you, that's all," said Anne, as she broke the seal an unfolded the letter. "Good lord, that was fast. It's from Parker's clerk. Not sure if you'll like the news or not."

She handed it to Hermione, she held it between herself and Ginny to read.

_Miss Lister_

_In regard to the matter we spoke of. A Mr Tobias Riddle was reported dead this morning, not long after delivery of his papers. Apparently persons around him repeatedly said something about him being overcome with grief at the loss of his nephews and that seeing his will made him so melancholy that he collapsed. Thought to be his heart. I will send more news if there is any to report._

_Your most humble servant, etc, etc_

"So they've acted straight away," said Ginny. "I guess they had to, because even with magic that body won't stay that fresh."

"Won't it be obvious that his body has been dead several days?" Anne asked, standing up and walking to the doorway to check no one was listening.

"If they've used magic, they might be able to alter it enough for a couple of days, before it would revert to how it was before eventually," Hermione answered.

"Check the book," said Ginny.

They got up and went to the privacy of Anne's study, where Hermione pulled out her landowners book. Her heart was beating faster as she flicked to the correct page. She was half hoping it had changed so they could work on a retrieval plan for Jane.

However, both properties were still Riddle. "If the codicil has been passed, which it has, surely official knowledge of the death puts that into play and the property becomes their property," Hermione said. "It might not go through on probate just yet, but for this book published in our time, it would correctly have the owners by the end of that year."

"Perhaps it's too soon and it hasn't registered yet?"

"Would it, it's not like the book is waiting for papers?!"

"All we can do is try to meet Jane as arranged," said Ginny. "She should know more, but we'll have to be very careful, as there could be more activity and the occupants of the house will probably be extra jumpy."

For the next half an hour or so, they looked at more of Hermione's books to see if there was a hint of a name change yet, either on landowner lists, or maps with altered labels reflecting whom the landowners were.

On the 1854 map, Hermione moved to a wider map which was still detailed, but nothing looked different or unusual.

"Maybe the will has to be read first, so everyone knows?" Hermione wondered.

"It could be, and that usually happens on the day of the funeral," Anne said.

"People get funerals quite quickly here, a matter of days?" asked Hermione.

"And they don't where you're from?"

"Sometimes a month or more in our United Kingdom, depending on getting everything booked and everything organized," answered Hermione. "So maybe next week?"

"It's possible it could be sooner, if Riddle was known to have a heart problem and nothing seems suspicious, and I'm wondering if they will have all three family funerals at once," said Anne. "Sometimes they bury people on a Sunday."

"There's no way you can want us staying on so long?!" said Hermione a little worried. "We'll move back to Great Hangleton."

"Absolutely not!" asserted Anne. "I'm involved now and we'll see this thing out, however it goes. I had intended to go to York and visit some friends this weekend, but I'm going nowhere."

"Are you sure?"

"Very," Anne nodded. She looked at her pocket watch. "You might want to start getting ready for your meeting, but at least you will be armed with information."

"Thanks to you, yes," said Hermione smiling.

Once changed back into their subdued greens and browns, Hermione and Ginny had a short time to go through the events of the past couple of days, to get things straight in their minds. They were still in need of answers.

A couple of minutes before 12pm noon, they fixed their glamours and Disapparated, and as before quickly made sure they were out of sight. After a moment they heard footsteps, Hermione moved only slightly and immediately darted back, it was Gaunt, with a weeding tool, using the hook end to twist around some dandelions in the lawn and pull up in an easy smooth technique.

He came incredibly close to where they were, which made the two women's hearts beat fast and sweat form on their brows. They were sure Gaunt would hear their hearts thudding.

Then he spoke, "I've pulled up some dandelions for you," he said.

"Thank you," said the voice they knew to be Jane. "What made you do that?"

"I know you're always looking for...things," he replied in a friendly tone. "I have to get rid of the buggers, so you might as well have them."

"I'll pick them up."

"Anything else you're looking for out here?" he asked.

"I'll have to see what there is, I might pick some wild flowers."

"One man's weed is another's flower," said Gaunt, chuckling. "One sees something someone else doesn't."

Two lots of footsteps were heard and then one pair closer and one more distant. Ginny moved her head around the other side of the tree they were behind and was relieved to see Jane nearest to them and the retreating back of Gaunt as he went back towards the house. "We're here."

"We've heard the news," said Hermione.

"Oh," said Jane, glumly. "We..._he_ had to present the body. As it was we had to use spells to reverse some of the decay."

"It won't work for long," said Hermione.

"I know, another reason he chose today. He said something about sadness killing some people and it being more believed."

"Or errant fake family," said Ginny, with sarcasm.

"Is Mrs Lockwood here? How did she take to the news?"

"Well...she sort of went very quiet and pale, and..._he _used _Imperius_ on her and she suddenly found she wanted to go and stay with a sister in Wakefield. She signed a statement and went."

"Did you do that?"

"No, I wouldn't have tried, but he was onto it before I could stop it."

"Hmm, we can't change that. What happens, now? Do you know about the funeral or will reading?" asked Hermione.

"Inquest tomorrow, 10am, but that should be formality, then the solicitor wants the will read of all three Riddle men after the inquest in a side room, I suppose so there are legal people nearby for any disputes and witnesses," said Jane. "I think they're hoping for a funeral on Sunday, possibly after the usual service."

"Just Tobias or all three?"

"All three, or so I've heard," said Jane. "They tell me a minimum of things. But, the Riddles have family vaults in Little Hangleton churchyard and possibly inside the church, I'm not sure on that."

"If Tobias was cursed, won't he have bruising across his chest?" asked Ginny.

"My...Massey tried to keep that to a minimum, and I'm ashamed to say I helped him," said Jane, glumly.

"_Helped_?" said Hermione, almost in exclamation, had she not been whispering.

"I didn't do the killing," said Jane, as she moved a little and made as if to poke a clump of corn flowers. "I only mentioned about doctors and coroners looking at injuries on a body and that I'd been worried about the man Riddle at the farmhouse, so he used something different, a variation for him."

"What, how?"

"I've never heard of it, or know what he did to achieve it, but he claims that he crushed the heart inside and that whatever happens it can't be seen as anything other than a bad heart."

"What about the Riddle at the pub, he had a definite sign of the curse?"

"That didn't go to plan at all, temper before brains, so he faked the hanging with a convenient emotional cause. I assume the same happened to the wife, but I didn't get to see much of her before she was...moved on."

"And how did you get the Riddle at the farmhouse to call by?"

"Massey sent his wife to ask if he could help us move some furniture. He came back with her and..."

"We saw the results," said Hermione.

"What is the deal with your Massey family?" Ginny asked suddenly. "Why have so many missed the authorities and Hogwarts, yet have been quite strong in magic."

"I don't know for sure," said Jane. "I once saw a family tree my mother worked on, which she wouldn't let me see properly, and it was a bit confusing, possibly with some inbreeding between two families. I was hoping when I became an auror that I could investigate it and find out...and now, to protect others, but I doubt I'd even be allowed to finish Hogwarts let alone set foot in the Ministry, now...not after what I've done."

"That's not a topic for here and now," said Hermione. "Have you had any luck with Massey releasing you?"

"No, I...I haven't dared to more than hint...he's very stressed right now, I don't want to push my luck."

"Has he hurt you in any way?" Ginny asked, hinting at all levels of the question.

"No, threatened, but not actually hurt me," Jane replied, but understanding the hidden wording. "And not in _that_ way."

"Would he kill you? His own kin?" Hermione asked.

"I'm hoping not, but after what I've seen, I don't want to test that theory."

"Okay, we'll try to get to the inquest tomorrow...I don't know what more we can do without putting you in danger," Hermione explained.

"I knew I'd be in danger as soon as I arrived. It's my own fault, I..."

"You're going to stand up and show yourselves!" shouted a voice, that made all three women feel ice in their veins.

The voice had been Massey's. Hermione nodded a weary head to Ginny, while whispering "We have to help Jane but, be ready to Disapparate."

They stood up and showed themselves, as Jane was also standing. "You, come here," he said to Jane and reluctantly she walked over to him.

"You're those bloody sellers," Massey said. "It's making sense now, that's why I could feel your presence more than just irritation. Who do you work for?"

"No one," said Hermione.

"Trying to get my..._daughter_ to work against me?" He almost spat, grabbing Jane's shoulder. "Won't work!"

"We know," Hermione responded. "Get ready," she muttered out of the side of her mouth to Ginny."

He took a few steps nearer to them, wand drawn; in the background they saw Gaunt looking over to them, then looking away as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Not that he was going to help the two witches or Jane. Massey could see that both women were holding their right hands in a way that looked to be retrieving a hidden wand from a sleeve.

"Woah, there," he said. "You're gonna tell Johnny all about it, or you'll learn it gets more painful not to tell me." He made the slightest of flicks with his wand.

Ginny cried out as blood ran down her arm from a sliced cut, dropping her wand. "Fuck!" She held her arm tight to stem the bleeding, and bent double to get her wand.

"No..._father_," said Jane. "Not like this."

"It's the only way that works with stubborn folk," he carried on conversationally. "It can be fun to know how far you can go without it being final. Now, you're going to start talking...or maybe not, yet."

He raised his wand again and aimed at Ginny. He did some strange, but incredibly fast, wand movements. Ginny still hadn't raised up and in the fraction of the second all of this took place, Hermione placed herself in front of Ginny to protect her. She put up a shield but whatever the spell was, it went through it like a knife through butter, and in this case like multiple knives slicing through Hermione's skin. She yelled in pain, blood seeping up from multiple wounds.

"Get her out of here!" yelled Jane to Ginny, as she barged into Massey to put him off balance, before he could cast anything else.

Ginny was recovered again in that other fraction of a second, horrified, but had the wits to wrap her arms around a copiously bleeding Hermione and Disapparate back to Shibden Hall.


	11. Chapter 11 Connections

Chapter Eleven - "Connections"

Ginny didn't waste a moment and Disapparated back to the Red Room at Shibden. With a flick of her wand, she removed their glamours and helped Hermione stagger to the bed. "Oh shit, oh shit!" said the brunette. "Bloody hell, it hurts!"

"What the hell did he do?" Ginny said, as she hurried to Hermione's side and tried to look at her wounds. There were several slashes to her arms, chest and neck, from what Ginny could see, the blood soaking through her dress. "Fucking hell!"

"I'm fine...I think it's only superficial," said Hermione. "It just stings and hurts like hell."

At that moment there was knock at the door. Ginny placed herself between the door and Hermione, shielding her from view. Hoping it wasn't a servant wanting something. The door opened and Ginny's shoulders slumped with relief. "Shut the door!"

"What...the...?" Anne tried to say; she could see blood on Ginny and then her eyes focused to where Ginny was going to her partner, who looked to be covered in blood.

"I know some medicine, but this really needs a physician," said Anne.

"No!" Hermione said, panting. "No...we can manage."

"You don't look like you can. What can I help with?" Anne asked worriedly.

"Some cold water and some bandages or linen, something to clean her up so I can see what we're dealing with," said Ginny.

Surprising all them, including herself, Anne didn't question it and was out and back with some water in moments and some bandages. "Luckily my aunt always keeps a lot at hand, just in case."

"I need to get these clothes off," said Ginny to Hermione.

"Flick," said the brunette wearily.

"I need to peel them away to see where you're hurt and if something is in the wounds," said Ginny. "I don't know what's happened yet. If I flick and you're full of glass it will rip you more."

"It feels...and looks...," said Hermione, tiredly. "A lot similar to that spell Harry tried on Malfoy...the one with all the cuts. Snape's creation..._sectumsempre_. It went through my conventional...shield. If Snape invented one, I'm sure others have too...especially rogue wizards."

"Or rogue arseholes!" Ginny spat.

"What if...the only shield to work...," Hermione panted. "Would have been yours? So...no one can intervene. It ripped...through my shield charm."

"It's worrying, whatever the hell it was," Ginny replied.

As Ginny peeled away Hermione's dress, the brunette grimaced from the stinging pain and where the blood had begun to clot against the material from the several slashed cuts to her arms, chest and neck, the cuts reopened and bled fresh as the material was peeled away.

"Dear Lord," Anne Lister said, as she helped Ginny to peel away the dress. "You really should get a doctor."

"We have no need," said Ginny more calmly than she felt. "Can you retrieve her little bag from a pocket in that dress?"

Anne looked down at the figure of Hermione, in her modern style underwear, covered in blood from several deep cuts and it affected her more than she thought it would. She felt angry that someone had attacked such a young woman as her, that she was hurting, and that...that beautiful pale body had been disfigured. She quickly found the mystical beaded bag and handed it to Ginny.

Ginny opened the beaded bag, hovered her wand over it and said "_Accio_ dittany" and a small bottle jumped up into her hand. She placed it on the bedside table as she got a strip of bandage dipped it in the water and began to gently sponge the blood away so she could clearly see the cuts.

Seeing this, Anne Lister got some bandage and copied Ginny on cleaning the wounds on Hermione's other side. The wounds looked utterly frightening and she knew they had to be painful, but was astonished by how the young woman appeared to be coping, and that she wasn't crying or doing much beyond the odd grimace or flinch.

As Ginny pressed against one wound, Hermione yelled, stopping the redhead in her tracks. She bent over Hermione and studied the wound, using her wand to gently take away more of the blood, and in the cut was an embedded rose or bramble thorn. Using her wand she slowly removed it, and then began checking the other wounds, but only about two others had thorns.

Something about having vegetation stuck into her triggered a flash back to fighting a different Massey and suddenly it hit home and Hermione's breath quickened, but she concentrated on her breathing and nothing else.

Looking over the cuts, Ginny said. "Nothing is stuck into you, now, it was only thorns, and it just leaves cuts to flesh, not anything like glass or wood chips, and no branch pieces this time."

Sweat broke out over Hermione and her hand shook, as she went to wipe her forehead. "Bugger it!" she said annoyed.

"Hey, just think of your breathing," said Ginny, picking up on her wife experiencing the beginning of a panic attack. "Breathing in and breathing out, that's all you have to think about. I'll soon have you sorted out."

Hermione closed her eyes and tiredly tried to silently count her breaths in and out.

"This time? Has this kind of thing happened before?" Anne asked, quietly, having observed Hermione's obvious attempt to calm herself in an utterly brave and rational way.

"Yeah, a couple of times, between us," said Ginny, looking down at her partner. "First time, she nearly died after facing the Massey from 1943...I think that's what happened now. A flash back. If I hadn't been so slow with my stupid bloody arm this wouldn't have happened. You didn't have to do that!" she directed to Hermione.

"Pffft!" Hermione exclaimed. "You'd have done the same! You did..._DID_ do the same, you idiot! And we all thought you really had died."

"All right, we're even," said Ginny. "It's not like anyone else is keeping count while they're trying to kill us?!"

"Was that one of those killing curse things you spoke of?" asked Anne.

"Yes," said Ginny as she continued to clean Hermione up, but using her wand to clean away now. "A very, very insane witch tried to kill...Emma...I saw it was going to happen a moment before it did and stepped in front of her. It knocked me out, but the necklace I wore prevented it from killing me."

"Why didn't you see it this time?" asked Anne, perhaps a little sharply.

"This damn arm," Ginny said, raising her still bleeding arm. "I was only a fraction of a second from having my wand ready."

"You must have known there was a threat?" Anne continued, rather sternly.

"Hey?!" said Hermione. "It's not her fault. If we should be indignant against anyone...it's the bloody bloke...who did it."

Anne felt like she had been brought up short and suddenly realized where she was. She took her eyes away from Hermione. "Sorry. I'm not used to seeing someone like this. I'm a bit thrown by it all."

"A nearly naked, wounded, bleeding woman?" said Hermione, amused. "No, I don't think many people are used to that!" She wondered if she had gone too far and maybe Anne wouldn't like the humour, but the dark-clothed woman briefly glanced up and there was a twinkle of a smile in her eyes. _I think I see what Ginny meant now,_ she thought, _she does really like me. Should I be worried that I sort of like it...a lot!? _"Besides it's slightly my fault.."

"What?!" Ginny spat. "It is _NOT _your fault."

"It sort of...is. If we had just left as soon as we heard him...instead of hanging back..."

"Because we wanted to make sure Jane was okay!"

"You don't even like her?!"

"I don't _know _her," said Ginny. "But I _do_ know your sensibilities and if you thought she might have been in imminent danger - and I agree, she could have been - then that is not your fault. It's still that arsehole that did it!"

"So, before I freeze to death," Hermione said, much calmer again and wanting to change the subject. "Any chance you can get me to stop bleeding? I'm feeling just a tad light-headed."

"Now getting to it," said Ginny. She picked up the bottle of dittany and decided to drip drops into the cuts and press a bandage with droplets of dittany on it to finish off the healing edges where needed. "Try not to be alarmed by what you see, Anne. There might be some sort of smoke or steam and she will probably wince in pain, because it stings a lot, but it's better than any doctor."

Ginny positioned the bottle over the first cut and let a couple of drops drip into the cut, the wound hissed and smoked and Hermione flinched, but the cut began to heal and within seconds was closed up and no more than a pink scar line.

After the second one Anne said, "That is remarkable. I've never seen anything like it?!"

"Dittany has saved us and others many times," said Ginny. She moved to deal with a deep cut on Hermione's upper chest and brunette groaned. "Looks like we need a few more drops on that one, it's deeper."

Again Hermione winced but shut her eyes and determinedly waited for the next lot of stinging sensations, relieved that her anxiety had subsided. She flinched again and sucked in a breath, then was aware that Anne had taken hold of her hand firmly. She opened her eyes and glanced at Anne, who gave her an encouraging smile, while giving her hand a squeeze. _Oh bugger!_ She thought. _I can see why women do tend to fall at her feet, or it could be the loss of blood talking._

With only a couple of cuts to go, Ginny had further cleaned away some blood before she dealt with the last ones.

"Will she be scarred?" asked Anne.

"No, shouldn't be," said Ginny.

"No, it will fade in a couple of days," said Hermione. "That time before, I was impaled with a couple of bits of tree branch and you'd never know it now." That thought again, made her tense up briefly.

"The problem we have here is that, we don't have any restoring potion that will help with her blood loss faster, so she might be tired for a little while. Although we do have a tonic," explained Ginny, with a crease of worry on her brow relaxing, as she got another bottle out of the beaded bag.

"I'll be fine. I'll try this tonic...and I'll drink plenty of fluids," said Hermione adamantly, taking a swig of the tonic. "Besides, it's not like I can take time off, right now, is it? And when are you going to take care of yourself...or are you going to stand there and bleed to death the slow way?"

"Bugger," said Ginny, raising he arm to see the slash she had was from her elbow, halfway along her forearm.

"Want me to help?" Hermione was about to move, but Anne stepped in.

"Can I help? Will it work if _I_ use that medicine on you, or does it have to be someone trained?"

"It should be fine," said Ginny, surprised. "A couple of drops like you saw me do with her wounds."

Ginny sat on the end of the bed as Anne dropped dittany into her wound, once again fascinated by the immediate healing.

"What should we do next?" Hermione asked. "We need to formulate our next move."

"Don't worry about that now. We have a little time," the redhead said. She finished cleaning up the last bit of blood from Hermione and got her into one of their clean night shirts and told her to rest, and after a little bit of confrontation, Hermione agreed under protest to rest, laid back and closed her eyes.

"Don't worry about having to explain the bloody bandages or bed linen," Ginny told Anne. She got her wand and used a cleaning spell on the bandages and linen and even a few drops that had landed on the rug and floorboards, yet again astounding their host. "Probably even cleaner than when we first came back."

Anne looked back to Hermione then to Ginny, before whispering. "Are you sure she's all right?"

"She's probably felt better, but she'll be fine."

With another look to the bed, Anne then beckoned to Ginny to go with her, the redhead followed her along the landing, up a couple of steps and through into a bedroom and then a side room from it, which looked like a smaller study.

The door shut behind them, Ginny took a seat, and it came to her that perhaps Anne was afraid for her family. "You shouldn't be in danger," she told her. "If there is any sign that you are, we'll move on."

"You seem so calm about this. Not that worried, all things considered," Anne said.

"The reason I seem calm is because I knew she was all right and dittany would work. We've both been through worse than what you saw. We..."

Ginny hadn't wanted to talk so openly, but she found herself telling Anne Lister about searching for Hermione in 1943, when she knew there might only be a body at the end of her search. About how they had dealt with Greyback, which provoked a look of horror on Anne's face, that werewolves were real.

"...you think we don't feel afraid? You think I didn't feel physically sick to see her hurt again at the hands of another Massey? My calmness was trying to keep both her and myself in control. You've seen how actions in the past occasionally come back to hit her. The memory of before almost certainly triggered her anxiety when we got back. She fights on, though."

There was silence for a moment or two, Ginny staring at her hands in her lap thinking over everything that had happened, and Anne running her finger down the spine of an old book on her desk.

"What will you do next?" Anne asked a few minutes later.

Ginny told her about the inquest and will reading and the funeral on a Sunday, and still not knowing when they could get Jane back.

"And you think Emma is ready for that?"

"Possibly not, but she'll want to," Ginny said resignedly, going through all the things that might have to be done. "There'll be no making her stay away if I go. That's just Hermione."

"Is that her real name?"

"Bollocks!" Ginny exhaled. "Please, please do not say that name to anyone, ever. Trust me to bloody say...stupid! Jelly-brained arse face!" Then she looked at Anne. "_Me_, I'm the jelly-brained..."

"Arse face?" Anne finished for her.

Ginny groaned, leaned over and put her face in her hands. "Sorry."

Anne got up and went over to Ginny, crouched beside her and reached out and took hold of her hands, getting her to raise her head again. "It's not something I'd say in polite company, but your vocabulary has been enlightening these past few days."

The redhead looked back at Anne, "Please don't repeat that name."

"I won't. I promise," said Anne. "It suits her better than Emma, though. It's the name of a character in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. Queen of Sicily in fact."

"She told me that once; it does suit her better than Emma."

"You're both welcome to stay here as long as you need, even if she needs longer to recover," said Anne gently.

"Thank you."

"It's strange, but in so short a time you both mean a lot to me. I feel as like one entered into a secret society and seeing things for the very first time. Like something was hidden from my vision, but was always there, if only I looked."

"We've dumped a lot of very weird circumstances on to you and it must be hard to be certain of anything, as it's constantly changing," said a tired Ginny.

"It is indeed; it has been an interesting turn of events, whatever the case. However, you need to look after yourself too," Anne said, and before rising fully to her feet, she did the thing least expected by Ginny; she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ginny's forehead. "For courage. Now, go check on our patient, I'll walk by in a little while."

XXXXXXXXXX

Wearing an odd expression, Ginny walked into the Red Room, to find that Hermione wasn't asleep now, but sat up against the headboard looking quite alert, with a couple of books open on the bed. She looked up when her wife entered. "Everything all right?" the brunette asked.

"You're not asleep?"

"Obviously not," said Hermione, indicating she was sitting there, talking. "I feel tired, but basically okay. You got me back here before I bled too much. I think that was the thing that's helped the most, along with the tonic."

"Hmm."

"Has Anne said something?" asked Hermione. "You look a bit perplexed...or confused."

"Er, Anne. I accidentally blurted out your real first name. She's promised not to repeat it, and I believe her."

"Well, it might have slipped out at any time. I think she can be trusted."

"Yeah, I do too," then Ginny chuckled. "I did kind of tell her what happened when you were wounded in 1943. I think it helped her understand a little more."

"And she's okay with it?"

"As okay as anyone in this situation can be. She still wants to help if she can, at least." said Ginny. "It made me understand something too, that little chat we just had."

"What?"

"She is _bloody_ alluring!" Ginny grinned, which made Hermione laugh. "She actually kissed me on the forehead telling me to look after myself..."

"I told you!" said Hermione, "There is something about her. It's the whole package: looks, confidence, control, intelligence. It's hard not to notice those things, especially if you're already of that persuasion."

"Anyway, we need to think about what we do next," Ginny said, quickly followed with. "About Jane and Massey, not about Anne Lister."

"What to do about _her_ would be a fun topic for you, I'm sure," said Hermione.

"We _do_ need to think about what we're doing next," said Ginny, shaking her head, to clear the thoughts of Hermione being intimate with Anne again.

Hermione smiled. "I was trying to get my mind working on all the problems. Like something is staring us in the face and we might have missed it."

"Like something is..." Ginny stopped mid sentence and put a hand to her face.

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Something being hidden. Anne told me the knowledge she has from us is: Like something was hidden from her vision but was always there, if only she looked."

"And?"

"Give me a minute," said Ginny, putting her head in both hands. "It's like something tickling my brain...or ticking _in_ my brain. Something hidden...but always there...in front of us...something I've seen. Someone I've seen...hidden, but in sight..."

For the next few moments Ginny muttered to herself: _hidden, vision, always there_; while Hermione looked on with a worried expression.

"Riddle!" said Ginny suddenly. "Four Riddles, dead, and according to Jane, Tobias was always going to die this year. He didn't speak to his nephews, no children from any of them, so whom or what inherits the house...forget about Massey and the circus he's produced, whom would have become Voldemort's ancestor grandfather and father if all of them died out? Someone became the Riddle heir!"

"Shit, Ginny, you're right...but...," Hermione frowned in concentration. "Does that mean the Riddle line became a fake line from the start, anyway?"

"No," said Ginny, with a huge grin. "We already know who it is, Marvelo Gaunt, the little boy!"  
"Gaunt becomes a Riddle? Unless..." Hermione's pale cheeks flushed with intent. "You don't think he's not a Gaunt at all? Dark hair...what if he's always been a Riddle? What if that was another thing Gaunt hated about Riddle from the Hanged Man? And the strict starchy Riddle wife sounding like she was always down on the kid and the mother? And another thing towards that marital breakdown issue that was so easily accepted?"

Ginny was nodding at every point as it became clearer. "Is there any way we can prove that, without getting some hair or blood off him?" she asked.

"If he was christened, perhaps," said Hermione, deep in thought. "Although, often mothers of illegitimate children don't name the father. I've seen some pernicious old vicars make scathing comments in the records for baptisms, but it wasn't just a moral question. They wanted to know who the father was, so they could approach someone to take responsibility and not become another mouth to feed on the parish books...this is all before the welfare state was established."

"So, if the kid _is_ even christened or baptized, then it might not name the father?"

"Possibly not," Hermione tapped her finger on the book. "And we're five years from official birth, marriage and death certificates having to be registered, not that that would be any different. The only place that would show possible links, would be in the parish register book inside the church, as we're unlikely to get access to the Bishop's transcripts. And that's if it's Church of England and not one of the non-conformist religions which did the baptism."

"It would be so satisfying if we could find something to disrupt Massey at the last hurdle. We need..." Ginny stopped as there was tap on the door. "Come in."

Anne walked in, closing the door behind her. She went and sat next to Hermione on the bed and took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, tired, but really I'm all right," answered Hermione, not taking her hand back from the warm, firm one, clasping hers. Ginny wanted to laugh when she saw that, but somehow kept silent with a concerned face.

"You gave us a terrible fright," Anne said, smiling.

"Not as terrible as the fright I gave myself," Hermione replied with a chuckle. "Anne, if we could prove a blood relative to Tobias Riddle, would a court find in favour of that relative, before a more distant one?"

"It depends. Whether they are named in the will, specifically or not," Anne gave a little snort. "Take my sister; she claims she's not going to leave me anything, I told her I wasn't going to leave anything to her either. Will it happen? No one knows...and no, I won't ask you about that! One never knows how a contested will case will go and any mitigating circumstances which might be brought forward."

"Would a great nephew be closer than a spurious cousin, whom I doubt can actually come up with a convincing family tree line?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, the great nephew would be more direct. But you would need good proof, not hearsay."

"Would a baptism record suffice?" the brunette asked.

"Yes, because it was witnessed by an official, the clergyman conducting it."

"Then we have to get inside Little Hangleton church today, and get that evidence before the wills are read,"

"Wait a moment," said Anne. "You can't be thinking of going somewhere, now?"

"_You_ most definitely won't be," said Ginny to her wife. "I'll do it."

"Alone?" asked Anne.

"I can't take you with me, too risky if you're recognized," Ginny replied, then quickly decided to deflect things. "But I'm trusting you to look after...Emma, while I'm gone. Make sure she doesn't do something stupid."

"Pfffffttt!" Hermione snorted. "I'm fine...just a bit tired!"

"Of course," said Anne. She felt like she was being pulled in two directions; staying with Hermione or going on an excursion with probable danger with Ginny. "I'll look after her."

"I'll need to have a different glamour, I think," Ginny said, and Hermione nodded. "Where would the parish register be kept? I know we've been right next to the church a few times, but I didn't take much notice, as we were always looking for people watching us."

"Probably off the chancel, in a side vestry, or sacristy room...or near the altar, or round the corner from the choir, if there is one."

"Well that's narrowed it down?!" Ginny's reply was heavy with sarcasm. "Is there any way I can be ahead of the game? Anne, have you ever been inside Little Hangleton church?"

"No, I've had no reason to," she replied. "I've been in Great Hangleton, but it's a slightly different layout and bigger than its neighbour, from appearances."

Hermione brought out some books, and looked at a book with maps from the 1790s, where instead of only symbols that marked the type of building, little houses and buildings had been drawn two-dimensionally, making it almost childlike, but also gave an idea of what the outside of the buildings looked like.

She searched in the index and flicked to a couple of pages and looked at the buildings in Little Hangleton. The pub and Riddle house were prominent and so was the church. It looked the same as she thought from their brief nearness to it.

She then picked up an ordnance survey book from the 1850s and from the more diagram-drawn detail saw that it was a nave, a chancel, and one small room off the side of the chancel.

"I think you'll have to aim for the chancel, whatever happens," said Hermione.

"I don't think I should Apparate into the church," said Ginny. "I'll go to our usual place and then walk into the building from there."

"We wouldn't want you to disrupt any possible service for a second time in a week, would we?" said Anne, with her tinge of a smile.

"It will have to do," said Ginny. "I wondered if I should wait for dark, but if there's a balls-up then we might have no time to rectify it or do something else. Sooo, I'll try this afternoon and hope I'm lucky first time."

"Posh or poor?" asked Hermione.

"Either could be troublesome," replied the redhead. "If I'm asked in either status I'd have a hard time explaining."

"Maybe you're visiting a family grave, while in this part of the world," suggested Hermione. "Therefore, towards the posh end would work better."

"Very true, if I take your meaning of posh correctly," said Anne. "You won't be recognized as local and if you were a labourer's wife, or mill worker, then you wouldn't have the means nor time to go visiting graves in different places."

"It will have to be posh, but not too posh. But I can't be me, or as we were when we first arrived in Halifax, in case any of that lot are involved with us later from Little Hangleton." Ginny gave a tired exhale.

"Gaunt," said Hermione. "He must know about the son not being his, from what we know of his relationship with Riddle, so why..."

"...is he helping Massey disinherit that son?!" finished Ginny.

"Exactly! Even though he isn't the biological father, anything that comes the son's way would therefore come his way too, or some of it, at least."

"Well the Gaunts seem to have a long lineage of being mad old buggers, so perhaps he hasn't thought it out?" wondered Ginny.

"On the plus side, I don't think he'd stop you accessing any information, other than for wounded pride."

"I'd better get ready," said the redhead.

Ginny laid out a dress from their selection and altered the colour from burgundy to navy, smart but not too fussy, or too wealthy. She flicked her wand to change into it, then tackled her glamour. "I suppose I'll go for dark hair, average nose...actually, average everything, then I might not be remembered very well if I am seen. I suppose I need to steal the book?"

"I don't like it either," answered Hermione, to her wife's look of distaste. "But if you just make a copy, depending how things go, someone might destroy the book. We can't guarantee there were proper transcripts sent to the diocese Bishop, let alone that they survive, so yeah, steal the book if you can."

"I suppose I'm only borrowing it, really. What's the time?"

Hermione was going to look for her watch at her bedside, but Anne had already flipped open her pocket watch. "Ten past four," she said.

"I'll get going," Ginny said, making sure she had got her own enchanted bag, looking like a good quality pouch, or bag, a lady with means would have. She came forward and hugged Hermione and whispered in her ear "You look after yourself, stay here with Anne, please. You never _know_..." to which the brunette made a squirming sort of noise, but didn't get to reply with any answer more than that.

Ginny moved back from the bed. "See you later...don't worry how long I might be, I might have to dodge and talk, and walk...a lot. Look after her," she directed to Anne, and with a crack she Disapparated.

Hermione and Anne were left, sitting side by side on the bed, looking at the space where Ginny had stood. "Let's hope she doesn't face too many obstacles," the brunette said, suddenly aware that she _really_ liked the idea of being alone with Anne. _Ginny has bloody corrupted me now! _She thought.

"I'm in admiration at how you face things," Anne said, a look of wonder on her face. "From what I have seen, the more danger you are in, or the higher the stakes of your actions, the calmer and more decisive you both appear."

"It doesn't feel like that inside," admitted Hermione. "Right now, I wish I wasn't so tired and could go with her, to guard her back, to see she is safe."

"I assume that, by agreeing without too much bother to not going, that you don't feel up to that?" Anne said, looking at Hermione thoughtfully and holding her hand again. "How are you feeling, _really_?"

"I'm fine...I'm..." Hermione paused when she saw Anne raise a doubtful eyebrow. "I'm a little tired and a little rattled, but I _am_ fine. Theses anxiety attacks returning, after years, that's been hard to accept. It hasn't affected my ability, exactly, but it's tiring."

"If you were my...companion...I wouldn't want you ever putting yourself in danger and never alone."

"It has sort of come with our situation, since we were at school. We never wanted to be in danger or keep being in harm's way, but somehow we end up in the thick of it. We've had a relatively ordinary last nine years, to be honest, but then when this situation came up, we were the most experienced people at this kind of thing and so we went. We didn't have much time to think on it."

"You liked your quieter life between the dangers?"

"Yes...but," Hermione hesitated.

"Not as fulfilling?"

"Before this happened, I had been considering a change of job and giving up my professor post. I'm a bit tired of the system and the same way of doing things, week after week, term after term. I used to be in law enforcement, but that got tiresome too, with all the paperwork. I thought when I went into teaching that I'd have more time with Ginny and be less tired, but it hasn't worked out that way lately."

"So you're not tired of your...companionship?" Anne asked tentatively.

"Every relationship or marriage has its ups and downs, it would be strange if it didn't, but I _am_ happy with Ginny."

"Forgive me for asking so personal a question, I have a curious mind," Anne said smiling.

"I know," Hermione smiled back, and then decided to be curious herself and see how far she could push things. Having just got through what she had, and seen off another panic attack, she felt emboldened, and still blamed Ginny. "I know you like me."

"I like you both, a lot," Anne replied, smoothly.

"But you _like_ me, I know," Hermione pushed. She felt Anne's hand loosen its grip of her own hand as if to pull away, and she wore an almost bashful expression which was very odd on that particular woman's face. Hermione held onto the hand. "And that's okay, I like it, a lot. I like _you_ a lot."

"Yes, but it does one no good to linger on thoughts that marriage bars. I will not chase something that...that can't be mine, whom is connected to someone else I like a great deal...and your marriage is as strong as any ordinary marriage here. I don't know what you've heard...or read...but as I've got older, I've grown to appreciate loyalty, oaths and bonds. So there's no point pursuing even the thought."

"A simple yes, would have done," said Hermione, with a sweet grin, hoping she wasn't offending Anne. She was feeling a little strange; focused, and a deep desire to experience Anne intimately and that confused and amazed her. _Bizarre! _She thought. _Ginny, this is your fault...I'm sure! _

"Good lord, all right, I _do_ like you. How could I not? You're beautiful, intelligent, vibrant and...smell nice."

Hermione laughed. "I'm not making fun of you...but if you notice the smell, then whew, you're in deep?!"

Anne actually laughed, a little embarrassed still. "You see, that is the other thing. I've rarely met women with whom I'm rendered speechless, confused, intellectually challenged, or find so captivating. Both of you unhinge me, unnerve me, and especially you."

"It sounds like I should apologize?"

"What? I only mean..."

Hermione held Anne's hand and clasped it softly with the other. "I'm joking."

"You see? I'm never entirely sure what to think. It's unsettling, and also like a challenge."

"From the little I know," said Hermione, diplomatically. "I never thought that, if I met you, that we would get on. I thought you wouldn't like someone equally as...curious or opinionated."

"Normally, I wouldn't," admitted Anne. "There _is_ something about you..."

Hermione moved the clasped hand to touch the side of her face, unsure how a move possibly seen as bold, or too forward, bordering on the vulgar, would be taken. Mostly she was thinking of the hands that wrote the diaries were now in her grasp and one touching her face.

"Ginny is actually a little envious that you don't like her quite as much as you like me," said Hermione softly. "But she likes you a lot and is fine with you and me."

"You and me, what?"

"Whatever you want it to be," Hermione said, aware of a little fluttering feeling inside her stomach. A bit of nervous excitement that made her feel almost mischievous and for once was not an impending panic attack.

"I'm flattered, of course," said Anne. She then slowly moved her hand from Hermione's face and brought the hand holding hers to her lips and kissed the knuckles. She looked up and found Hermione's smiling eyes looking at her, with a little dilation to the pupils, which even Anne in this era was aware of, but she sat back a little. "Are you playing games with me? Is this happening before some strange trick in which my abject humiliation is the goal?"

"No, we wouldn't do that to you," said Hermione, looking Anne straight in the face. "_I_ wouldn't do that to you. But, I am a curious woman too."

"Curiosity hath burned many a person...mind...reputation."

"Curiosity taken care of, for us both, with no pressure, knowing it can be no more, but the utmost respect and feeling. Would that be so dangerous...or wrong?" Hermione eloquently managed.

"Have you done this before?" Anne asked, her cheek twitching. "I mean, offered yourself to someone other than your...wife?"

"No," said Hermione. "Whatever you might be thinking, I am not _that_ kind of vulgar! It's only you. There's something about _you_; something, the little I know of you, was definitely never mentioned. You're utterly captivating in a totally unexpected way."

Anne Lister smiled, her cheek still slightly twitching with either tension from humour, or from not knowing what to do. She moved her hand and cupped Hermione's cheek and looked into her eyes, her face closer, looking for something that should make her stop, or looking for something, she didn't know what, exactly.

Hermione was willing her to kiss her, not wanting to instigate it herself, knowing that Anne might not like that. Even though she felt a little strange and nervous, inside she was saying, _do it, do it!_

"I regret that I can't be more for you," Anne said, almost whispering, her lips so close to Hermione's that the brunette could feel her breath as she spoke. "I regret that for me, most of all."

The space closed between them, Anne still hesitant, but then with her mind made up, she pressed her lips to Hermione's. The kiss was initially very light and gentle, just lips gently questing and dabbing, until Hermione could resist no more and slowly put her hand against Anne's cheek, her thumb lightly stroking the peachy skin as they kissed, she got the slightest of little sounds from Anne, but not resistance or dislike of her action.

Hermione discovered that kissing Anne Lister was very different to Ginny; there wasn't the depth of feeling, or age-old comfort and complete confidence, nor the utter charged passion she had felt when she and Ginny had first kissed, but there was something different. It was still a passion of sorts and a deep feeling of sorts too. While thinking these things she felt Anne's tongue gently pushing and allowed it entry to deepen their kiss. She moved her hand from Anne's cheek and wrapped her arms around her neck.

_I'm kissing and holding history, a legend...a lesbian legend too, _she thought, then slightly sadly._ I'm kissing and holding someone who deserves to have someone to love, and to love her in return, not a slightly infatuated curious experimenter. _Those thoughts made her hold firmer and as the kiss lessened she hung on, gently tugging in Anne's bottom lip as they parted, both breathing shallower.

Anne's eyes were dilated too, now, and her penetrating gaze was aimed right into Hermione's soul, or so it seemed to the brunette; perhaps looking for guilt, or regret or something that signalled a great wrongness, which was probably the usual response she got even from initially willing women in the past, from what Hermione had read.

The brunette used her finger and thumb to gently trace the outline of Anne's face, her brow, her cheek, her jaw, her chin, and her lower lip; before she leaned her head forward indicating she wanted to kiss her again, and Anne did so.

After another long, and sensual kiss, Anne kissed Hermione's cheek, and her neck, before pushing Hermione to lie back a bit more and pushed apart her night shirt, not fully, but undoing a couple of laces. "I have to see, where you were hurt," she said.

"I'm _not_ hurt any more," replied Hermione. She felt a gentle finger tracing where the cuts had been and only faint pink lines showed their placement.

"I hated seeing you like that," Anne said in almost a whisper.

"I'm sorry you had to see it. It's not pleasant, or something easy to get used to."

"No, it didn't bother me like _that_; blood never has; it was the fact it had happened to _you_." Anne lowered her head and pressed a kiss just below Hermione's collar bone where one of the deeper cuts had been. "And you say you will have no scars?"

"Shouldn't do, you can hardly see where those tree branches impaled me nine years ago."

Anne kissed her neck and a little down the v of her shirt, and her other hand couldn't resist cupping Hermione's breast through the clothing, making the brunette jump a little. The hand moved away straight away.

"It's okay," said Hermione. "It just took me by surprise."

Looking down at the brunette, Anne smiled and lowered herself to kiss her again, slowly moving her hand back and trailing kisses down her neck to the v of the shirt, before pulling it down and fastening her mouth on a nipple.

However different it was to being with Ginny, Hermione couldn't deny being turned on. _Perhaps it's the whole legendary thing?_ She thought, trying to explain it. _Or just the fact someone clearly wants me and I'm intrigued enough to allow it. Or it's the blood loss talking, not that I really lost much, so can't use it as an excuse..._

The current kiss deepened again and she felt Anne's hand sliding downwards and along her thigh and just as Hermione was thinking _The diaries don't lie, she _is_ a fast operator!, s_he felt the same hand up her inner thigh, under her nightshirt, cupping her mound and rubbing her through her underwear. She didn't flinch from the contact though, just sighed into the kiss.

After a few minutes, where Hermione was struggling not to roll her hips too much, Anne broke from their current kiss, looking direct into Hermione's eyes and pushed past her underwear to dip inside her moist folds. There was a pleading look in Anne's eye, as if seeking permission, so Hermione put a hand around her neck and pulled her down to kiss. In a short time Anne entered her with one, then two fingers, Hermione unable to stop a whimpering groan into a kiss. In minutes, with curled fingers inside, Hermione was surprised and shocked that she could feel herself about to climax. It never usually happened that quickly, from that turn of events. She briefly wondered if she could hold it off, but her body had other ideas and, as her insides gripped the fingers inside her, she held onto to Anne, who was actually trembling, electrifyingly so, as she then kissed her, as her hips bucked, then stilled. _It's still nothing like the power of Ginny, but fuck, what did she do? _She thought, bewildered.

Amusing to the brunette, Anne withdrew and briefly licked her fingers, before kissing her again. "I've wondered what you've tasted like since I first saw you," she said, in a husky whisper.

Hermione was a little dazed and didn't think anything of trailing a hand down Anne's cheek, jaw, neck and then resting on and holding the small swell of a breast. Anne stiffened a little, took hold of the hand and with a worried frown that quickly disappeared, kissed the palm of that hand. "That's not something...I do. Not well, anyway."

It came to Hermione then, about the times she had read that Anne didn't like being touched that much, or not so obviously. _Shit I nearly broke one of the rules Ginny and I said in jest! _

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I'm just so used to touching Ginny in return and letting her feel what she's made me feel."

"That's not really my way."

Anne looked uncomfortable so Hermione moved and kissed her softly on the cheek, then held her hands, to stop her getting up and leaving. "Talk to me. I won't tell anyone, nor write it down and I most certainly won't think you're odd or laugh at you."

"Talk to you?"

"Is there a reason you're like that? Did something happen to you?" It was something Hermione had wondered about a while, but was never sure if there was a reason.

"Oh. I've never...told anyone...there's nothing really to tell. I only know, I don't like it that much."

"So you weren't touched by someone when you shouldn't have been...growing up?"

"What? No, nothing like that. Although, I admit the very thought of being with a man has always felt wrong and some of the loveless arranged marriages of acquaintances used to make me feel physically sick. I used to think it wasn't much more than legal prostitution."

"I can definitely understand that feeling, going by what I've read from centuries past; of rather old disgusting men marrying wives hardly out of their teens as an arrangement between families. Horrid," said Hermione.

"I've been asked into marriage, with a man, when I was younger, but I could never ever do that. I knew from a young age that was not my path. But, no, I've never had an incident I thought back on that might have made me the way I am. It is who I am, how I was made."

"It's sometimes like that," said Hermione, never completely understanding women that felt that way, and no clearer on why Anne felt that, but respecting it too.

There was a silence for a while, then Anne finally spoke. "I don't like to feel I'm too womanly...or controlled by another. To touch me in those places is to make me feel weaker, it unsettles me."

"I suppose it could feel like that. Here you have to be so guarded too, and you have hardened yourself a bit to deal with this world and all the back-biting and gossip. You have to distance yourself and the way you identify yourself makes perfect sense."

"I also...get immense pleasure to give pleasure," Anne explained. "I don't feel the need to complicate it, fumbling around, embarrassingly, to aid me. On occasion it happens in passing, but never deliberate...once I sense that, I often deflect it. It has to be someone I'm very deeply...connected to...to allow it."

Hermione knew she had to be very careful with the knowledge she had, such as knowing that Anne was fine with rubbing herself against a partner in a form of tribadism, but was a little bit reluctant in recent years up to 1832, possibly due to a sexually transmitted disease she had almost certainly caught from Mariana Lawton. She had thought on it, and was completely sure it was not syphilis, and that it was more likely one of the lesser infections, which could sometimes clear up on it's own, but maybe that had made her reluctant too.

"In my own time, there are still lots of women – lesbians - who feel that way. All I would say to you, about feeling too womanly to be touched like that is, that the person wanting to touch you is probably not thinking about specific body parts, they're more likely not thinking of you as a woman exactly, but their lover, they want to be part of you, literally, and what gender that lover is, whom they have chosen to give themselves to, is irrelevant, they just want to get close to that person, and be tender with them."

"I am the way I am," Anne said with a little sigh.

"Nothing wrong with that either," said Hermione. She leaned in again and pressed her lips softly to Anne's, then hugged her, talking in barely more than a whisper. "There will be someone for you, Anne. Even if they are not completely perfect, they will want you and you will feel it, and be perplexed and confused and all those delirious things of love, but it will be there, underneath it all, even when you want to walk away from it, or not deal with it. No love is perfect, the perfect love exists for very few. When you let someone in, you'll _really_ let them in and only be stronger for it." She held her tight and felt the hug back. "And what you just did to me, I'm not sure I can explain it."

Hermione pulled back and kissed Anne's cheek again, then realized that Anne had been shedding tears, which the brunette wiped away with her thumbs.

"You truly believe that, what you said?" said an emotional Anne.

"Yes, I do," said Hermione, and quickly added. "And this is not something I know, because I don't know that. It's from knowing people from all walks of life and how it happens for them." _Whew, I steered that one away from a car crash just in time!_ She thought.

"It's the only thing I wish for now. Travel and the world will always be there, but so much more dull without someone beside me. I don't think I can be alone, not for ever."

"You won't be, there will be someone out there, who will want you for you being you, but it might require patience and perseverance."

"Will you tell Ginny about this?" Anne asked.

"Which bit?"

"Well, all of it."

"What you did to me, yes, probably...she'll want to know," Hermione said, then saw Anne's worried face. "Only because she's a peculiar person and will probably be turned on by it and jealous it wasn't her experiencing it."

"Ah. Not what I expected." Anne smiled sadly. "And the other thing."

"Only if it comes into conversation, but she won't tell another soul either." Hermione saw that uncomfortable expression again. "Nor would she laugh about it. She has a weird sense of humour, but when there's something serious and it might hurt someone else, she won't comment on it. As long as you don't think..."

"What?" asked an intrigued Anne Lister.

"That I've been too vulgar," Hermione took a calming breath. "I come from a time where if someone wants something, or has a strong feeling reciprocated, we tend to act and show what we feel or want. We talk a lot more openly too."

"I wouldn't call anything you do, vulgar."

"Really?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, all right, some things could be classed as vulgar, but having seen how you and Ginny work, how you live with each other, there is no way it could really be seen as vulgar, only culturally different, despite you both being English."

"Thank you, I think," said Hermione smiling. "And thank you for..._that_. I've wondered things about you since we first met as well. My curiosity has been sated."

"If only you could stay here and weren't already taken."

"If I didn't have Ginny, I would think very seriously about not going back. And I mean that," Hermione looked away; despite the rules of time travel she actually did mean it, timelines and things set in stone, be damned. "You are a remarkable woman. Whomsoever you will finally be with is one very lucky woman, and don't you forget that."

"Apparently others have forgotten that, and forget readily," said Anne, circumspectly.

"Then they weren't worthy and were not the ones," said Hermione, with no hesitation. _Yes, Mariana Lawton, I mean you!_ She thought.

"I hope you're right. I seem to get invested in people and then they go off and marry someone, or go back on a promise, or..."

"Have a change of personality?" offered Hermione, knowing how some of Anne's love life had failed time and again with inconstant people, and also things that happened to alter Anne's place in her relationships; from obsession to self-destruction too.

"Precisely, which then leaves one feeling bitter and wondering if you were with the same person at all, or whether you had only recently noticed what an incredibly bad choice was made in the first place and were probably infatuated and blinded to the facts."

"The route to love is not always easy," said Hermione, thoughtfully. "Being with Ginny was a lot easier than some people endure, but we still had to fight for things, still had doubts, had plenty of fear, but love finds a way...if it's the correct one. And...I'm not sure I can be very helpful on what to look for...I think it's different for everyone, but you _just know_. Which is something one of my brother-in-laws said to us, when we confided in him about our relationship."

"Patience and courage, and not only for me," said Anne wistfully. "Well, that can wait. I wonder how Ginny is getting on?"

"Hopefully she hasn't had to do too much talking," said Hermione, wanting nothing more than to have Ginny back in her arms and still not entirely certain how she had ended up doing the things she just had with Anne, however much Ginny seemed to know they would and had basically encouraged.

**A/N: Something that has always intrigued me about Anne Lister is that, despite her apparently positive, battling qualities and hard exterior, she was also a very emotional woman that keenly felt things like anyone else, only she hid it from most people. She cried as much as the next woman. I liked playing with it for this story.**

**As to the "connection", as Anne would call it, between herself and Hermione...yeah, pure self-indulgent fluffy fantasy with a tiny dose of smut. Apologies. I also like the different complexity of the relationships between the three of them, which kind of set themselves up in my mind and wrote themselves into the story.**

**Anne wrote about marriage as nothing more than legal prostitution in her younger days around the time Mariana married Charles Lawton. **


	12. Chapter 12 Hidden In Plain Sight

Chapter Twelve – "Hidden in Plain Sight"

Ginny Apparated to the place they had used, not far from the door of the western end of Little Hangleton church, which was where a squat little tower was, with the main function of holding a small bell. It looked like the main door was there too, without a porch. She looked around and again there was no one close to the church, and no one in the churchyard, or none she could see from her position. As she was about to take a step she heard a noise, but was relieved to see it was just a donkey and cart trundling past, a farmer sat hunched with an old felt hat pulled done firmly on his head as the animal plodded along.

She walked the few paces to the doorway and turned the ring latch on the old medieval iron-studded wooden door. It opened and with a much louder screech and scuffing noise than she was comfortable with, it pushed inwards.

Inside the church was even more sparse than Great Hangleton, looking like the puritans had only _recently_ stripped the place bare and whitewashed everything, rather than two-hundred years before. The only sign of age was the damp patches on the walls and the odd grubby patch where pews met the wall and people had leaned there over the years.

Listening hard for any sign of other people in the church, Ginny walked slowly and carefully down the small nave, aware of named tombstones beneath her feet. She looked either side of her, as she walked, looking for any desk to the side or a side door to an office. She reached the small rood screen and walked into the chancel, the altar was ahead beneath a plain glass eastern window; if the church had ever had stained glass the puritans, or some accident, had removed that. She glanced to her left and saw a small organ and a door next to it. Once more listening carefully, but only hearing her own breathing and her heart thumping in her ears, she tried the door, it was locked. Uttering an expletive, she then used a bit of wordless and wandless magic, to unlock the door and she heard the bolts retreat.

Inside to the left were several hooks on the wall, one holding some vestments the vicar wore, there was a small wardrobe-like piece of furniture and a small desk, covered in books and papers.

Exhaling a slightly despairing sigh, she looked at the books: Bibles, Psalms, Services. This was all taking too long; she'd been here much longer than she hoped already. She shuffled through books of parish newsletters, bound in leather, a couple of books in Latin and also Greek, recognizing the lettering from Anne Lister's books. Then she finally saw the word 'Register' on a thinner, worn book, underneath a stack. She was about to take it, when underneath it she saw another, about the same age and wear to it.

_Bugger, _she thought. She flicked it open and saw pages of flowing, rather messy script. _I'm never going to read that very fast. I'll have to take them both...what the? _Upon lifting the second book there was a third. Shaking her head in amusement, she quickly put all three into her enchanted bag and quietly went back into the chancel. With a flick of her hand she locked the door, and just in time, as a man dressed in black, with a flash of a white tie of some sort at his throat, walked into the nave, the door having screeched again, and she was fairly sure he'd not seen her yet, and was fairly sure it was the vicar.

_What do I do? What would Hermione do? _She thought fast, and quickly and quietly sat down in a pew in the choir area and kept her head down as if praying. In a way she _was_ praying, for the vicar to go away again and let her leave without any hassle. But minutes later she heard footsteps echoing on the stone flagged floor, then stop and deliberately try to be quieter. _Great, he's seen me!? So I either stay praying for longer than humanly possible and he's still there, or I finish and look up and talk my arse out of it._

She took a deep breath, hoping it might be seen as her sighing and finishing her private prayer, or however muggles did this.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your prayers, madam," the vicar said, in a rather smooth, oily voice that she was aware most vicars she had met possessed, in all eras. He was perhaps in his fifties with a bald head and only tufts of grey hair at the sides, giving him a slightly mad professor look.

"I was finished," said Ginny.

"Forgive me, but I haven't seen you at our church before, are you visiting?"

"Yes. A..." _A what? A...bugger...bollocks..._ "A...distant family member of mine was buried here many years ago," she said more confidently than she felt, but remembering the ideas they had had for her being here, back at Shibden. "I was passing in the area and thought I would pay the church a visit."

"You're most welcome," the vicar said. "It is perhaps fortunate you visited today and not Sunday."

"Oh?" she inquired.

"After service we have a triple funeral to conduct."

"Three people at once? Was there a...an accident or illness?"

"It has been tragic," said the Vicar. "Two brothers and their uncle. One from a fall, the other from his own tortured mind and the uncle in grief."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Ginny, then remembered something Hermione had told her once that she always thought was very harsh. "Will they all be buried together?"

"Alas no," said the vicar, clasping his hands together. "The uncle and one of the nephews will be in their family vault, but the other can only be buried near the church boundary."

"Of course, the circumstances," Ginny nodded.

"As tragic as it was, it is the way of things and he did take a life, even if it was his own in deep despair, but we are not monsters here, we at least allow them in consecrated ground, many other parishes wouldn't even permit that."

_Oh, your pity and charity astound me! _Ginny thought sarcastically and with disgust, knowing that Thomas Riddle was murdered and so his final resting place was yet another injustice, but had he really committed suicide it would have been an injustice anyway. "Very sad he cannot be at peace with his family."

"He will be in the same grounds and the same soil," said the vicar a little pompously. "And our Lord forgives and has an infinite heart for love. If he is meant to find his way to Our Saviour's side he will be there."

_A shame He let him be murdered, perhaps he was too busy spreading all his love to everyone else. _She thought annoyed. Religion had always annoyed her and she did well not to blurt out something that would make her all too memorable. She needed to leave.

"I must be going again, now," she said standing up. "I'm glad I made time to visit."

"Thank you, madam," he bowed his head slightly. "There is a little box to the right of the door on the way out."

_Little box? _She thought. _He wants me to donate? Creep! Although, I _have_ just stolen his registers!_

Ginny inclined her head in reply and walked slowly back down the nave, aware he was watching her. She saw the donations box near the door and fudged into her enchanted bag and brought out a couple of shillings and posted them into the coin slot on the box.

She could feel a little bead of sweat trickle down her back, now, and was relieved to walk into the afternoon sunshine and fresh air, after the confined damp air inside the church. A quick look around ascertained that no one was coming towards her, a look back at the door, showed the vicar hadn't followed her, but she decided that there had better be no chance of being seen to disappear in thin air, and decided to take a walk out of the village to a clump of trees beyond and Disapparate from there, even though it would add quite some time to her mission.

A while later she arrived in the Red Room at Shibden and went to the nearest chair and flopped into it, removing her glamour with a wave of her wand.

"Ginny?" a note of definite question in Hermione's voice.

Anne had jumped off the bed, where she had still been sitting and went to Ginny. "Are you hurt?"

The redhead gave a breathy laugh. "No. I had to have a conversation about burial customs with the vicar, though."

"What?" Hermione sat forward.

"I met the bloody vicar," Ginny said, then looked quickly to Anne. "Sorry." Anne shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'I'm used to you now.' "Anyway, it was either pretend I was praying a lot longer than anyone would, or get out of there by talking."

"Burial customs, though?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"He told me about the triple funeral and although he gave no names it could only be the Riddles. Apparently Tobias and Terrence will go into the family vault, but Thomas gets a special place near the boundary, because he dared to take his own life!"

"Ah," said Anne Lister. "That is the practice in these cases. Some parishes would bury him outside the church boundary, or even at a crossroads."

"Yes, I've read about that," said Hermione. "Not very Christian, really."

"It's technically murder," said Anne. "The parishes around here are more accommodating than most."

"Sorry, but in our time, if someone has taken their own life there's a bit more compassion, or more attempt to understand, and there are no rules to bar them being buried or cremated wherever they had wanted to be."

"Progress again?" Anne queried.

"I would say it's more an evolved and educated view," said Hermione, then turned back to Ginny. "Anyway, did you get the register?"

"I got three! I couldn't read the writing straight away, so took the lot." Ginny retrieved the books from her enchanted bag and laid them on the bed.

"Baptism, Marriage and Burial," Hermione listed. "Baptism is all we really needed, but you got them that's the main thing. And surely it can't take too long to get through them, it's not like the village has ever been huge with lots of 'hatches, matches and dispatches' to conduct, even if it covers a couple of hundred years."

"Let's make a start," said Ginny. "But with the writing we may need Anne's help."

"I'd be glad to," said Anne, unable to mask her enthusiasm. "What do we look for first?"

"How old is Gaunt's son?" asked Hermione.

"Six or seven, perhaps," estimated Ginny.

"Sooo allow for five to eight," said Hermione, tapping the baptism book cover. "1824-1827."

The brunette flicked the pages from the front and saw that this particular register had started in 1780. She found entries that looked like 1824 and handed it to Anne. "Anything that looks like Gaunt or Riddle or Marvelo from then onwards."

Anne sat on the end of the bed with the book on her lap, using her finger to trace the handwritten entries. Several pages had been turned, but for May of 1826 she stopped. "It has the name Marvelo but it's not his first name logged here. Ginny and Hermione sat forward to try to see the page.

"Thomas Marvelo Riddle Gaunt," Hermione deciphered, then moved to the next box for father and mother. "There!"

Ginny looked and laughed. "Not disappoving...MUCH!"

In the parentage box it had 'Mother: Marcella Gaunt, married woman' and in the comments box the vicar had written. "Known to be the son of Thomas Marvelo Riddle, NOT the woman's husband."

"She wasn't exactly hiding it, was she?" Ginny said. "Such an unusual name, if it had been me I'd have gone for something plain and with nothing to take obvious leaps to."

"I'm a little amazed myself," said Anne. "His first names are clearly Thomas Marvelo Riddle, and the last name is Gaunt, or so the position of the box comments would say. But he isn't a Gaunt, not biologically and if he is what he appears to be, this Gaunt man would seem to have taken it easily."

They were silent for a time.

"What if...?" Hermione began, then picked up the marriage register book. Thinking that perhaps the Gaunts had married a year or two before the boy had been born...then she thought again. "I'm looking for their marriage but while I do that, look for any burials in the burial register for Gaunt babies or children."

The pages for marriages were more detailed than for the baptisms, listing witnesses, sometimes parentage, sometimes banns dates and any signature or mark signed by the married couple. Depending on the officiating clergyman there were occasionally occupation and habitation information too.

She was looking at 1822 and within a page she found the marriage entry in March of that year. "Here!" she traced her finger along, slowly getting used to the curly script of the documents. "Groom: Morten Magnus Gaunt...of this parish...Bride: Marcella Mable Gaunt...of this parish. Wait?! Gaunt on both? Or has her married name been used already?"

Anne took the book and looked closely. "Marcella would indeed appear to be a Gaunt before marriage. She names her father as Morgrim Gaunt.

"So cousins, maybe?" asked Ginny tentatively.

"I did warn you about Little Hangleton," said Anne, distastefully.

"Nothing more than most aristocratic families do all the time," said Hermione, knowing for sure that even the Listers had done a little inbreeding, even among Anne's aunts and uncles to keep property in the family, although very little actual breeding took place and it was more a convenience for them.

"Yes, but there's nothing strategic here, is there?!" Anne dismissed it.

"Perhaps they loved each other?" offered Ginny.

"Well, it's proof of the child, isn't it?" asked Hermione, pointing to the entry in the book. "We'll have to explain how we got hold of it, though."

"Not if I put this into Mr. Parker's hands as evidence, officially," said Anne, thoughtfully. "He'll know how to deal with the acquiring problem, even say he instructed a clerk to do it, and then..."

"Oh!" said Ginny. She had been reading the burial register. "Mavis Gaunt, died April 1822 aged 5 weeks. Daughter of Morten and Marcella Gaunt." She moved several lines lower. "Morten Gaunt died August 1823 aged 3 months...and another 'Mable Gaunt died December aged 7 months...must have been twins. Meopham Gaunt died August 1824, aged 2 weeks. And the last one looks like Morten Morphid Gaunt died August 1825 aged 6 weeks."

"Were they killing their children? That seems to be beyond the normal ratio?" asked a disturbed Anne.

"Possible, I suppose," said Hermione. "Also possible something like syphilis was involved." She noticed Anne nearly wince at mention of it. "If they were killing them, then why let the illegitimate one live?"

"Yeah, they wouldn't let him get to six years of age, if they were systematically killing babies," said Ginny. "I know infant mortality was bad in this time, but even so...it's a strange statistic in one family."

"Unless," Hermione began. "The inbreeding _was_ the problem. If their ancestors had also interbred, and maybe more than once of twice in previous generations, then the chance of having genetic defects has to increase considerably. Perhaps those poor kids were just not put together right in the first place."

"Genetic defects?" asked Anne.

"This doesn't get discovered for a long time, not in detail, anyway," Hermione began. "Simply put we're all put together with some things from our mothers and some from our fathers, obviously; those traits, be it big nose, red hair or blue eyes, height and some personality traits too are the genetics we inherit. I think even in this time people know not to marry too closely related because the children are more likely to have problems."

"Yes, we know of that," said Anne. "I think you'll find that as far back as medieval times, even the Catholic church was aware and one couldn't marry someone within so many degrees of consanguinity, unless one was very rich and managed to get a dispensation from the Pope."

"Explains why so many rich people are weird," muttered Ginny, but Anne heard it and frowned. "Well it's true! You wouldn't call some of the kings and queens of the past completely sane. They were always breeding among themselves."

Anne was about to answer, but shook her head, as if deciding that there was no argument that would actually stand against the facts.

"That's not important," said Hermione, brushing the subject away. "But with the Gaunts it could be why they didn't kill this child, or more likely why this child didn't die, or perhaps they just got lucky."

"Yes, but it might explain something else," said Ginny. "Voldemort was both Riddle and Gaunt more than once. You could say _he_ wasn't normal."

Hermione tilted her head. "True."

"Thomas Riddle didn't have any other kids, then?" asked Ginny.

"I can't say I saw the name while looking through the baptisms," said Anne. "They lived elsewhere until they took on The Hanged Man, so if they had children in another town or village I wouldn't know."

"It must have been a kick in the teeth for Riddle's wife to see Marcella and the boy under her nose most days. It adds to the whole 'marital problems' theory for her disappearance, conveniently," Ginny said.

"I wonder how it happened?" said Hermione.

"If I have to describe _that_ after all these years...," said Ginny with a crooked grin.

"Oh, trust you!" exclaimed Hermione. "I mean, was it a fling, an affair, lust, forced, planned?"

"Not sure we'll ever know," said Ginny. "I don't expect it's something we could ever ask. Not sure you can really ask that in any time period."

"Yet people find things out, and she wasn't hiding it, not from the vicar, at least."

Anne had a look of undisguised distaste on her face. "Generally, these things get known. It's surprising how gossip can be remarkably accurate, sometimes."

"I suppose it isn't important, as the boy is being brought up," said Ginny, reflecting. "He doesn't look like he's being mistreated. He doesn't look that fearful particularly."

"Yes, he looks like what passes for normal in these times," Hermione replied.

"We'll need to get these registers to Mr. Parker first thing tomorrow," said Anne, wanting to change the subject from the grubby goings on of illegitimate children and the making of said children. "I'm happy to do that."

"I think we need to be around there tomorrow too," said Hermione.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" asked Anne.

"I'll be fine," replied the brunette. "A night's sleep and I'll be as good as I can be. I think yet another persona needs to be created, although I can perhaps go for the rich Miss Elliott character, again."

"Yes, and it will open more doors, literally," Anne advised. "Although, I expect some of the ordinary folk to attend. They will be living on the gossip for weeks to come."

"Right, we'll go into Halifax with you tomorrow morning; you see the solicitor, then we'll all go to the inquest and maybe hover around for the reading of those wills." Hermione said, Ginny nodding in agreement.

Anne flipped out her pocket watch. "Let's go down and have dinner."

After another pleasant dinner, through which even Hermione had to admit that without Marian and Anne sniping at each other, was more relaxed. They then spent a little time in Anne's study finalizing their plans for the next day, agreeing to leaving at 8am to catch Mr. Parker early, once in Halifax, not wanting to arrive in any way except walking.

They turned in for the night at 9pm, Anne leaving them at the door to the Red Room, a touch wistfully.

Once inside the bedroom and with silencing and locking charms in place, Ginny turned to Hermione and smiled. "So?"

"What?"

"Did you and Anne do anything? I've been getting this strange vibe all day in case you hadn't noticed, and when I first appeared back here, Anne jumped off the bed like she was over compensating to deflect something..."

Hermione felt a little bashful and although not ashamed, she almost wanted to keep the details to herself. "You mean when you were gone?"

Ginny got into bed beside her. "Well it was hardly something that happened over dinner!" She rolled to look down on Hermione, eye to eye. "You did do something, of that I'm sure?!"

"Yes," said Hermione. "I'm not sure what to think, or how I should be feeling about that. Shouldn't I be feeling awful? Or guilty? Or..."

"Did you kiss?"

"Yes," Hermione said, feeling absurdly embarrassed.

"And?"

"It was nice...I don't know how else to explain it. Not like you; not with that deep thing I always feel with you."

"You mean..." Ginny leaned down and pressed her lips to Hermione, kissing her slowly and sensually, tugging on her lips as she pulled back, before deepening it again; finally ending it a minute or two later.

"Yeah, like that," said Hermione, a touch breathless. "It's like connecting to something. She was nice, and I felt things, but not the same at all."

"So, did she touch you?"

"She...," Hermione chuckled. "She kissed a couple of my scars but didn't remove any clothing, maybe got a bit...of breast in," she mumbled.

"Was that all?" Ginny asked knowingly, eyeballing her wife.

"She..."

"_Did_ she?"

"Yes..."

"And?" Ginny asked, her breathing shallower.

"I lost it," said a blushing Hermione. "I'm not sure what she did, but I couldn't hold it back."

"Hermione?!" said a smiling Ginny. "Were you a tinsy winsy bit easy?"

"It's not like _that_," said Hermione, serious all of a sudden. "It was nothing like what I feel with you, but it _moved_ me. And...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, we talked about this," said Ginny softly. "I know how you've been feeling about her. She is no threat to us, not in that way. I know it's something you would perhaps want to experience. And I was sort of hoping you would."

"Why? No, _really_?"

"Honestly, because I know it's something you were curious about and what she has meant to you. And secondly to maybe feel what it's like to...be the one..."

"I didn't do it to make you jealous," said Hermione. "That's not it at all."

"It was a curiosity for me," said Ginny. "To see how I'd feel in this bizarre, kind of controlled, situation. And honestly I'm glad. A little jealous I didn't see it, or get in on it, but I'm okay with it. I think it's because it's her. It's the Anne Lister factor. As long as you don't make a habit with anyone else?!"

"Shit, no!" said Hermione worried.

"So did the world move?" asked an amused but highly interested Ginny.

"Yeah...got there rather fast."

"What was _she_ doing? Anything to herself or...?

Hermione told her about the faux pas of touching Anne and also the trembling she felt from the woman during their activity, especially when Hermione had gone over the edge.

"Hmm, I do believe you made her come just by being you," said Ginny knowingly.

"It crossed my mind that's what it was," Hermione paused. "I remember reading in one of the books, that she would tremble with sexual excitement, around certain women. This felt a bit more than that. And..."

"And?"

"She knows what she's doing."

"I don't think that was ever in doubt," Ginny grinned, as she trailed a hand down Hermione's side and rested it between them holding her mound, then getting under her nightshirt and touching her directly, her wife's hips rising up to meet her, and feeling her wetness. "Is that for her, or for me?"

"Honestly?" Hermione managed to say around shallow breaths. "I'm not sure."

"Are you well enough, for this?" Ginny asked, dropping the humour momentarily.

"I'm feeling better with every minute," said Hermione amused.

Ginny slowly circled Hermione's clit, loving the almost whimpering noises she received, looking into her eyes before entering her wife with two then three fingers, both moaning from the action.

The redhead then joined her lips to her partner, keeping a steady rhythm with her fingers and the heel of her handed giving the right sort of friction.

A few minutes later, Ginny broke the kiss and kept her eyes on her wife and watched her approach climax. "Come for me," she urged. Hermione did just that, her hips bucking wildly as her climax burned through her, it was almost like she had had some pent up tension. She was still coming down from it when she flipped them, kissing Ginny deeply, before settling between the redhead's legs. After a time she rose up and lay next to Ginny as her hand continued its work, pressing kisses to her partner and watching her rise to the edge and go over, kissing each other softly as she came down from her climax.

Hermione collapsed on top of Ginny, her head on her chest.

Several minutes later Hermione broke the silence of gradually slowing breaths. "Are you really okay with the whole Anne, business? I'm still confused about, all of it...and it not being right."

"Yes, I'm fine with it. I sort of suggested it. But I knew you were curious and yes, it honestly turned me on, a _lot_."

"It was only a few minutes, really," said Hermione. "I didn't touch her much, except that one accidental attempt. I feel bad for her."

"Does Ann Walker get close, in that way?" asked Ginny. "Do we know?"

"She occasionally instigates their situations," replied Hermione. "I think perhaps she does. Anne Lister certainly gets naked with her, especially once they had their marriage thing. But I'm sure there's still some reservation and things she doesn't do, or Anne manages to put off."

"I'm not sure I could be that way," said Ginny.

"Me neither. I really wanted you so badly just now...in case you didn't know?!" Hermione smiled. "I do care about Anne a lot, if I didn't have you and was alone, and she asked me, I would have trouble going back to our own time. It would be a tough thing to say no."

"Think you could shape her to liking things?"

"Possibly," said Hermione. "I'm not sure I'd ever be totally comfortable with the sort of husband role she takes, but as a person, there is something that draws you in. She can be brash and aloof but under it she has emotions like everyone else. The outer shell a lot of people see and made fun of her about, is basically the armour she has to use to survive in the world. Underneath she's as sensitive as you or I."

"I'm glad you made her happy, for a short time at least," said Ginny. "I would have done the same...had she shown any interest that way. _IF_ you had let me."

"She does like you a lot," replied Hermione.

"Not to the same level."

"I feel ashamed that a small part of me was interested in the experiment."

"But you care for her," said Ginny. "It wasn't a cold calculated thing. Even now you're still caring about her and who's to say..."

"What?"

"I was just thinking, about time and fate and things set in motion," Ginny said as she stroked strands of Hermione's hair. "What if...our meeting with her now is the thing that opens her to the idea of finding that love she craves. Okay, it's not the fairy tale happy love she ends up with, but she does get her companionship and someone finally brave enough to move in with her, compared to her other conquests, that is some feat."

Hermione raised herself up and pressed her lips to Ginny's. "I love you. Thank you for taking that risk with me."

This actually brought tears to Ginny's eyes. "Thanks for never giving up on me, or my family."

They snuggled down in each other's arms and fell asleep, initially troubled with high emotion, but then settled into the bliss of the security they felt with each other, beyond material or corporeal things and much deeper into their souls and hearts.

XXXXXXXX

Ginny awoke first the next morning, watching Hermione still sleeping. It was early and knowing what they had ahead that morning, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. The brunette stirred then opened her eyes.

"Big day today," Ginny said.

"Let's hope we can have the last laugh and get Jane out of this mess."

"Hope you feel okay?"

"I'll manage," said Hermione. "A good night's sleep does wonders.

It was after 7.45am when they sat at the breakfast table; with only Anne there it made things easier. They passed some pleasantries about breakfast foods.

"What would be your normal routine?" Anne asked.

"Sometimes toast, sometimes cereal," replied Hermione.

"Cereal? You mean oats, grains and the like?"

"It covers several manufactured breakfast products. Cornflakes is obviously from flakes of corn. Bran is the dark brown stuff and that is in a variety of products. Rice Krispies...those are fun, puffed grains of rice and when you add milk they crackle. There are chocolate-flavoured things. And of course old dependable porridge oats. And things with dried fruit and nuts mixed in."

"Some of that sounds a bit hard going first thing in the morning," said Anne.

"Most options are quite healthy and they...err..." Hermion faltered, knowing that Anne often wrote about her constipation in code, so it was unknown as to how she might react.

"Keep _things_ regular," said Ginny, also remembering reading about Anne's constipation, and having none of Hermione's reservations.

"Regular?" Anne inquired, then she seemed to understand vividly with raised eyebrows and the hint of a blush. "Really? Eating that actually _helps_?"

"It can do," said Hermione. "But a diet of variety is always best for that, anyway. Fibre, like bran and cereals, but also fruit, vegetables."

"If things go to plan, I suppose you might be leaving today?" asked Anne, changing the subject. "Not that I'm trying to hasten your departure."

"It all depends how this morning goes," said Hermione. "I've been thinking on time. I think we ought to take you to a little way out of Halifax, or maybe the churchyard, and walk in from there, as long as you can deal with the queasy feeling?"

"I'm sure I'll manage." Anne brought out her pocket watch in her usual fluid motion. "Yes, perhaps it's advisable to get an early start."

"We're ready when you are," said Ginny.

Within fifteen minutes all three were walking away from Shibden Hall and once in a wooded area, the two witches performed their glamours to disguise themselves; Hermione as the rich Miss Elliott again and Ginny as a nondescript average woman, but well dressed. Hermione then Side-Along Apparated them to the edge of the churchyard of Halifax church, where she remembered some shrubs. It was gone 9am and no one was around in the churchyard.

Anne took several deep breaths, but seemed to recover more quickly this time.

"All right?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," replied Anne. "I must be getting used to it."

After taking a careful look around, Ginny brought out the three parish registers from Little Hangleton church. They had decided that Anne should hand all three over, so that they could be given back properly and wouldn't require them to have to take them back themselves and explain it.

"We'll let you deal with this," Ginny said as she handed the books over.

Anne put the registers under her arm. "And you'll be out in the street. There are plenty of shops' wares to look at. I don't think this will take long."

They all walked down the main street of Halifax and off to the lane that the solicitor, Mr. Parker, worked from. Anne walked in through the door and Hermione and Ginny began walking slowly up the street, looking at the shop windows as they did so.

An uncertain time later, perhaps fifteen minutes, the two witches were looking at some handmade baskets outside a shop when Anne found them, looking as though she was humming with confidence.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked. "Did he accept the books and the evidence?"

"Didn't need to," said Anne. She looked around them and indicated they should walk. "We'll make our way to the inquest."

"Is he going to bring the evidence to light?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"He doesn't need to," Anne said, again wearing a slightly smug expression, because she knew something they didn't.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't supposed to be told this," Anne explain in hushed tones. "But..."

"You being you..." Ginny stated for her.

"Well, quite," Anne then blinked a few times and told them her news. "Firstly, the son is known about. Apparently, that was the cause of some of the friction between Thomas and his uncle. The latter insisted that blood should be recognized and Thomas wanted it left alone. Parker has a baptism certificate for the boy which was handed over when the will was made a few years ago. It is also for that reason that Thomas Riddle was given The Hanged Man to manage."

"As punishment or reward?" asked Hermione.

"Not absolutely clear," replied Anne. "Perhaps both, but that's how the nephew went from a farm labourer on his uncle's lands to publican. Perhaps embarrassment, shame, or a meddling old uncle made them fall out with each other."

"But even if the boy is known, then the codicil from the other day wipes out his inheritance, whether he's named or not," said Hermione, unable to hide the glumness from her voice. "So all of this means that...Massey bloke wins, everything."

"No it doesn't," said Anne, looking around them again to make sure they weren't overheard. "The will named both brothers and the wording said that, next would come any 'issues of their body', being known at that time, only to be one Thomas Marvelo...etc etc. That woman impersonating Riddle obviously doesn't know much about wills and codicils, or maybe wasn't good at reading, because it simply added them to inherit _after_ the boy."

"Not as well as?" Ginny asked.

"_After_," repeated Anne. "It wouldn't matter if they had added Noah and his entire Ark in that codicil, the wording of the original will wasn't retracted or replaced, it only added another line. And that's all they asked for, an addition."

"I bet Gaunt knows," said Hermione. "No wonder he wasn't worried about helping, he knew all along that his son...boy...would have everything. In some ways he hastened the inheritance because they have the most to gain, for everything to go to him."

"Precisely," said Anne. "And I assume the...those people...know nothing about it, or that boy would be dead."

"He might still be if something kicks off at the will reading," said Ginny.

"We'll be prepared," said Hermione, tapping her sleeve, where her wand was always stowed.

"Which is why I asked Parker if we could attend the will reading, myself being linked to one of the dead men, and you as my guests, inquisitive to hear proceedings of such an interesting case."

"You're really good at this," said Hermione.

"I pick up most things quickly," nodded Anne.

Ginny stopped walking, making them all stop. "I think I should go and watch the boy."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"We know the...the main protagonists can all _do_ what _we_ do. Any one of them, even Jane, if she isn't genuine, could get back to the boy and kill him," explained Ginny. "I assume Gaunt is going to be around here for the will, even if he isn't in the room. That means his wife and son are easy meat, because we don't know if either of them are that strong magically."

"She does make a strong claim," said Anne. "It might also be better for me to have only one companion to be at the reading."

"That's settled then, I'm going to..." Ginny was cut off by Hermione.

"No, it's not settled!"

"It's the only sensible thing to do. Even if you get Jane, you can't leave straight away."

"I wondered if you were all going to leave from Shibden, when the time comes," suggested Anne. "Although that young girl would probably challenge my tolerance, but it is a safe place for you to go to and leave from."

"Thank you, Anne," said Ginny. "I'm going back to the church and then to Little Hangleton. I'll look at the pub, then if nothing is happening there, I'll got to the hut in the woods."

"For fu...f...fiddlesticks sake take care," said Hermione sternly, narrowly avoiding swearing in the middle of the street.

"Don't I always?!" replied the redhead.

"Don't get me started," said Hermione. "Okay, go, we'll meet up later in Little Hangleton or back at Shibden"

"Yes mi'lady," said Ginny, and as she turned to leave. "Take care of her, Anne."

"Of course," Anne replied, once again taken by the courage the two women showed and their ability to change plans in an instant as required.

Hermione and Anne reached the hall where the inquest was being held, with already several people milling around. Due to Anne Lister's status they were let through and shown to the hearing room, settling on a wooden bench.

"Is it the only item on the agenda today?" asked Hermione, in nearly a whisper.

"I think there are three others," replied Anne. "So I was told. This place serves quite a broad area, geographically, and as humans we do find extraordinary ways to meet our end, that require an official explanation."

"Or an _attempt_ at an explanation," said Hermione, bemused.

Several minutes later, a man Hermione assumed was the coroner, came into the room and took a seat behind a long desk on a raised dais, a couple of other official-looking people sat either side of him, followed by two clerks. The room was fairly full of not just local inquisitive people, but possibly families of the dead and solicitors; Mr. Parker nodded his head to Anne as he passed and took his seat.

"Who are the other men, either side of the coroner? If that _is_ the coroner?" Hermione asked Anne in a low voice.

"Yes it is. The man to the right is a deputy coroner and the other man," Anne sighed. "...is Rawson, local magistrate."

"Oh...ohhh!" said Hermione with realization, _that_ Rawson was a man that had, and would be in, deep conflict with Anne over coal. "Is that normal...a magistrate attending?"

"In some cases. I suspect _he _wants first hand information to furnish his dinner conversations for the next month," Anne said with disdain.

The coroner started with a case of a farmer from Southowram having been kicked by a horse which caused internal injuries and death in the same day. It needed very little confirmation, with a couple of witnesses and with a doctor's statement and all paperwork in order. The next case was from the outskirts of Halifax, a man having crashed in a horse and cart, while under the influence of alcohol, falling into a ditch and the man dying of head injuries. It was a little longer to sort that case out, with a couple of character witnesses giving evidence that the man had liked a drink and friends had tried to stop him from driving his cart in that state, several times.

Then it was the case of Tobias Riddle's, sudden death, apparently from a weak heart and dealing with his family's recent tragedies. Hermione sat forward marginally to listen carefully. Anne saw her attentiveness from the corner of her eye and subtly moved her hand to hold the brunette's. Hermione turned to her, rolled her eyes then smiled.

A doctor had performed a post mortem and found that indeed the heart was diseased and could have failed Tobias at any time. He was questioned if there was anything odd or not as he expected.

"The flesh was a little different," the doctor said. "If I didn't know the details of the case I'd almost say he might have been dead a little longer than stated."

Anne squeezed Hermione hand encouragingly.

"Can you offer another explanation for that?" the coroner asked carefully.

"It seems clear that Mr. Riddle had heart problems, sometimes the blood doesn't get around quite as well as it should. If his condition had deteriorated in his last few days, of course unbeknownst to him, then some of his flesh may have begun to suffer from necrosis."

"No poisons involved?"

"There were none of the signs of poison. No burning of the oesophagus or stomach lining. No frothing at the mouth. The blood supply to his eyes was strained from pressure, but a heart attack could have caused that. The same can be said to the damage found to the heart and blood supply."

"Are you happy to confirm you findings as heart failure, possibly brought on by melancholy or shock?" the coroner asked gravely.

"Yes, sir."

The coroner conferred with his deputy, nodded and then signed some papers, handing them to a clerk and then moving to the next case.

Mr. Parker had stood up and moved quietly back towards the door after handing a paper to his own clerk. The solicitor inclined his head to Anne, as if to say she should follow him for the will reading.

Hermione and Anne Lister stood and followed him, through the main doors across a busy lobby to another room, smaller and more like a board room, with a large table and several chairs. Anne and Hermione sat on some chairs at the edge of the room, not at the table itself.

Mr. Parker was in and out of the room, talking to his clerk and arranging his paper in the folder he had brought with him.

Hermione was thinking. _I hope things are going well for you, Ginny._

About a quarter of an hour later, some people filed into the room. First, and not surprisingly were Massey and Jane, still under their glamour disguises. Gaunt walked in but without his wife.

"What's he doing here?" Massey asked Mr. Parker, gesturing to Gaunt.

"He's here to hear the will read, like you. Anyone can attend a reading, such as this," Parker replied calmly, and not letting Massey reply, carried on. "If we can be seated, we can begin..."

**A/N: It's kind of obvious that I do a lot of genealogy and love nothing better than searching through old parish records and the 'interesting' comments sometimes left by the prejudicial, self righteous, pompous old vicars. I'm no longer surprised by anything I read in those records; it can be highly entertaining.**

**In the Xena episode "Been There Done That" where the day repeats itself, until she can find the solution, she says she finds out "every stinky little thing" about those people. That's my life! I probably know more about the long-dead than the living, so it had to feature in this.**


	13. Chapter 13 Fated

Chapter Thirteen - "Fated"

Ginny was in the lane near to the Hanged Man pub. She cautiously looked around her and then walked towards the pub, rounded the corner, and was surprised to see the door open and sounds from within.

She walked into the main bar area and could hear sounds from the kitchen, like pots and pans being banged into a cupboard; remembering that she wouldn't be recognized she called out. "Hello?" The noise stopped, so she called again. "Anyone about?"

The kitchen door opened and a woman walked out she had never seen before. "We're not really open," she said. She was perhaps in her forties with straggly mousy brown hair, tied back.

"Sorry, the door was open." Ginny pointed to the door. "I'm passing through from visiting relations."

"We're not due to open for a couple of days or more," the woman said, looking at Ginny but trying to avoid eye contact.

"Oh, are you only open a few days a week, then?"

"Err...no," the woman looked a little nervous now, glancing at the door she said. "We're new here, taking over the pub."

"Is it just yourself? It would be a lot of work for one?" Ginny said conversationally.

"It will be my husband too, and we'll still have the help from a woman in the village."

"I hope you both do very well for yourselves," Ginny said cheerfully.

"Would you like something to drink?" the woman asked. "We can't offer you anything alcoholic this time of day, but there's some lemonade out back."

"That would be nice, thank you." Ginny sat down at a table near the bar area.

The woman went into the kitchen and when the door opened again it wasn't the woman, but Marcella Gaunt who walked through carrying a tray with a glass and a jug, the other woman coming through behind her.

"Do you have any children?" Ginny asked the woman she was certain was Massey's wife. "They're always helpful in a place like this."

"A son and daughter, grown up with their own families, but we will have Marcella's lad to help, he's out back cleaning now."

They set the tray down on the bar, got a couple of glasses, the woman passing one to Marcella and nodding her head towards the jug. Marcella poured, then took it to Ginny.

"Thank you." said Ginny, deciding that even when she left she would hang around if Marvelo was here. "How much?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," the woman said. "We're not even open properly yet. It's amazing how word of mouth gets things spread around...any good things you might say about us, would be helpful."

"How old is your lad?" Ginny asked Marcella, as the woman walked back behind the bar.

"Turned six last month," said Marcella.

"I bet he's into everything at that age?" Ginny smiled, then took a sip of the lemonade which was very good.

"He's a good lad," the Massey woman said, nodding to Marcella. "Although he needs a bit of discipline."

"All lads that age do," said Ginny. "Still, you...have to cherish them. Let them play...but keep them safe." Ginny began to feel a bit tired. In fact, she felt very tired and with horror she realized that her drink must have been drugged. Her limbs felt heavy. She fumbled for her wand up her sleeve, but it was taken away by Marcella Gaunt. At that moment she couldn't have cared less about the boy, she just wanted to get back to Hermione. If only she could think and get her bloody wand back.

In her very drowsy state she saw the two women look at each other and walk over to her. She pathetically couldn't do a thing, not even wordless magic to stop her self being tied to the chair. Then Marcella sat next to her. "Who _are_ you?"

"Good question," Ginny managed to answer, still able to just about articulate a good-humoured answer.

"You're like us," said the Massey woman. "But who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm with your...great great...great...whatever...granddaughter," Ginny replied, which wasn't far from the truth.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Tell me."

"I'm with...Jane...the one who came here to find you."

"Why?"

"Why?" Ginny's mind was feeling foggy.

"She came alone."

"Not exactly," said Ginny, she thought she would try to continue with the half truths. "I've been helping her. Helped her even get here."

"Where is she?" asked the Massey woman, so obviously full of thoughts and no answers to them.

"At the will-reading...as planned."

"How do you know about that?"

"Because...I've been _helping_ her."

"Johnny never mentioned you and neither did Jane?" she questioned.

"I've been staying in the shadows, there to help when needed...as needed...," Ginny then wondered about everything she knew and decided to slide in another reference. The fogginess was receding slightly, or she might have only adjusted to it. "I helped with the supply chain...the other night."

"What supply chain?"

"How do you think that _woman_ got to Sheffield?" Ginny tried, her mind becoming a little clearer. She didn't feel too much worse than when she had had a hit to the head in quidditch now.

"Those were blokes did that...Johnny said...well, never you mind." The Massey woman looked a bit uncertain.

"Incompetent fools, I made sure official people were somewhere else and not within sight of it, that night." Ginny smiled. "They don't know that. Blokes like that wouldn't accept that anyway, even if I told them. They think _they're_ so clever."

Marcella was smiling. "How does she know what she knows, if she wasn't involved?"

"I...don't know," the Massey woman was nearly won over.

"I've been here as long as Jane, but out of sight, except the other day...I posed as a seller at the house to make sure she was where she was supposed to be." Ginny tilted her head. "She then told me to look out for the pub today, she didn't tell me who I'd find here, but I guessed quite quickly."

"Same way we knew about you?" Marcella asked, twiddling her fingers. "Magical?"

"Yeah, that helps...and you getting me like this." Ginny nodded to the rope tied to her arms and shook her head a little. "Nice lemonade...but has a certain after taste."

"I was told there were two sellers..." Mrs. Massey asked, uncertain again.

"Well...," Ginny began.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"And those are the wishes of Tobias Riddle," said Mr Parker, as he put down the papers he had been reading from, with the other two Riddle men's wills having been read first.

"You what?" asked John Massey. "I thought he said he was adding us to his will. You said our names but not to inherit?"

"Because as the will stands you are not due to inherit. Unless Master Thomas has no children of his own in the future, then the inheritance would pass to you."

"I thought he said he was going to add us to his will to inherit everything...for...to make up for all the years we'd been estranged."

Hermione and Anne had been watching with intense interest to the reactions. Now Hermione began to feel a little on edge and very subtly touched her wand in her sleeve, to reassure her it was there. Anne placed her hand on the brunette's arm gently, giving her support and calmness.

"He did add you by codicil, but it did not retract his initial wishes only adding that after the named family any inheritance would come to you. It's very clear in the wording," Mr. Parker tried to explain.

"But they have no children! Who the hell is this Master Thomas?"

"He's my son," said Gaunt with a smile. "Well, of course, he's actually my step son."

"And you knew?!" Massey raged.

"Not exactly," said Gaunt. "...but Mr. Riddle – Mr Tobias Riddle, that is - did mention it once a few years ago, when he wanted to know if Marvelo had been baptized. He then got the vicar to sign a certificate to prove it for the will. It didn't half mess with Tom Riddle's brain. He hated old Tobias even more after that. He'd been trying to cover it all up and deny it, and his uncle was making it officially known, so to speak."

"You knew?" Massey glared at Jane now.

"No. I knew nothing about that...although..."

"What?"

"It sort of makes sense...something that comes later," Jane nearly muttered the last part, frowning deep in thought.

"You knew all along?!" Massey shouted again and stood up, nearly knocking his chair over, glaring at Gaunt.

Hermione nudged Anne. "Parker needs to leave now."

"Mr Parker," Anne said across the room. "You might want to leave...now."

The solicitor packed up his folder and walked to the door, turning to say to Gaunt. "I'll be around early next week to speak to you further and your son." He looked to Anne and Hermione wondering if he really ought to stay, or call in someone else, if things were going to get nasty, but saw Anne give him a confident nod and dismiss him. _She must know what she's doing,_ was the thought he had.

"Father..." Jane said uncertainly. "There's nothing we can do."

"I'm sorry, mate," said Gaunt. "You were so set on what you were doing, when could I possibly tell you different? You wouldn't have listened to me anyway."

Massey was breathing heavily, then turned and looked at Hermione and Anne Lister as if only seeing them for the first time. "You...we've met before."

Hermione was panicking but then realized he was actually talking to Anne, even though he had met 'Miss Elliott'. She stepped boldly forward. "Miss Lister of Shibden Hall. My friend and I were here on behalf of my former tenant Terrence Riddle, as his representative, his having no family left."

"Nothing in there for you either, was there?!" Massey said, but not with particular humour.

"I didn't expect there to be," Anne said completely composed. "It's all done with now."

"Not necessarily," Massey looked at Gaunt. "Your lad not with you?" Seeing no reaction except a little nervousness now, he laughed. "Kids die all the time, don't they?"

And with a crack he had Disapparated.

"Bugger!" said Hermione.

"Professor?" Jane asked still standing there a little shocked.

"Yeah, it's me. Gaunt..." Hermione turned to the man. "Where's your boy?"

"As if I'd tell _you_?!"

"I have my partner in Little Hangleton looking out for him, in case this happened, so if you know where he is it will be faster to go and protect him from attack."

"Why would _you_ help me?" Gaunt asked, confused.

"I'm not, I'm helping the boy," Hermione snapped. "He can't die. He's not supposed to die."

"I know," said Jane. "It came to me just now about who he's related to."

"There's no time for this, where the hell is he, Gaunt?" Hermione was irritable now, because wherever the boy was, Ginny probably would be too. Little Hangleton wasn't that big, it wouldn't take long for Massey to search and find where Marvelo was.

"Probably at the pub," Gaunt said.

"Can you Apparate?" Hermione asked Gaunt.

"No, never learned how, I'm not that good really."

"Jane, you take Gaunt. Aim for the lane around the side of the pub. See you there in a moment."

With a little distaste, Jane took Gaunt's arm and Side-Along Apparated him.

Hermione held Anne's arm. "You can stay in the lane and hopefully stay out of the line of fire."

"Stay out...?"

"No time to argue," Hermione Side-Along Apparated them to the lane.

On arrival they found Jane and Gaunt. Hermione peeped into the pub's window and saw Ginny on the chair, and the ropes holding her.

"Bollocks!" the brunette exclaimed. "Where's your boy?" she asked Gaunt.

"If he isn't out back, he might have wandered off...he does that sometimes, the little bugger."

"Is there a way into the back?"

"Course. There's a gate," said Gaunt thumbing behind him.

"Let's go in that way," Hermione said, as they walked down the lane around the back of the pub. "Just a moment. What is your wife doing there? Does she know about the will?"

"Yeah. I told her just to act all nice and easy with _his_ wife till I got back," Gaunt said, pleased with himself.

"However nice she's being, she's holding my friend hostage with that other woman," said Hermione, sounding more than pissed off.

They reached the gate and Gaunt fiddled with the latch and an inner smaller door opened within the gate structure and they all went through. Once in the yard, they could see that there was no one there.

Hermione turned to Anne again. "I don't know what might happen, so please stay in the yard, and if anything happens get away from here. Nothing can happen to you here."

"I'm in this all the way," said Anne. "I'll keep myself back if only to not distract you, but I will guard your back."

Hermione had no more time to discuss it and nodded. They walked to the pub's back door - which had four pairs of shiny shoes in a line and a broom stood against the wall - and opened it. As they were about to step in they heard a child's voice. "I did it mama, like I promised."

"Good lad," said Marcella.

"Why is that lady tied to a chair?" the boy asked.

"She's not," said Marcella. "See, no ropes now."

"But why?"

"Never you mind," said his mother.

Then there was a faint cracking noise and footsteps. "Ah, just the little shit I wanted," said the voice of Massey.

"What do you want with Marvelo?" Marcella asked cautiously.

"Know about the will, do you?" Massey asked.

"What about the will?" a second woman's voice said.

"We haven't been left anything!" said Massey.

"But the will, _we_ changed it."

"No _you_ didn't. Our names are added to the bottom, but this little pain in the arse gets everything...first. He's a bloody Riddle!?"

"What? How were we to know?" the wife said, sounding scared.

"Gaunt knew about the will and I bet his bloody wife knew too...didn't you, love?"

"I..." Marcella was going to say something, but was cut off when Gaunt charged through.

"Back off!" Gaunt said.

"I thought you couldn't travel?!" said a bemused Massey. "I wish people wouldn't keep doing things that I have no warning about. Well, it matters not." He made a sudden grab for Marvelo who squealed.

Massey had the boy by the throat and brought out a rustic twiggy wand and pointed at his head. "It won't hurt a bit," he coaxed, then looked at Gaunt, Hermione, Jane and Anne standing in the doorway. "And look, we have quite the audience."

"You're right, it won't hurt," said Ginny, standing up slowly.

"Who the hell are _you_?" Massey said.

"She's been helping us...she says," Massey's wife said.

"Really?" he replied, looking at her, then looked to his wife. "Never seen her before. I'd better make this quick, then."

"Because I made sure you didn't see me," the redhead said, and with a move as fast as some she performed for the Holyhead Harpies, having no wand, she lunged at Massey in a kind of barging rugby tackle. He let go of the boy on reflex, took the hit like a brick wall and pushed Ginny back and flicked his wand at her, green shot out and hit Ginny, who being wandless, was thrown back. She got to her knees and couldn't rise any further. She heard what she thought was Hermione's voice, but her hearing and vision was fuzzy. She saw another green flash go past, but it stung her upper arm as she tried to dodge it, slicing the flesh. Again she heard Hermione's voice.

Hermione was in a horrible deja vu moment seeing Ginny being attacked, nearly like the Bellatrix and Greyback fights all over again, except she looked to be sitting up, if very dazed. The Massey guy had managed to get another curse off before she used Expelliarmus and got his wand. He grabbed the boy again, who had been too frightened to run, rooted to the spot.

"Want some too?" Massey said to Hermione. He put his hand up and a curse shot from his palm, but Hermione was able to deflect it, as it pinged off and hit an oil lamp behind the bar.

"Don't need a wand, it just looked more professional."

"NO! Not my boy!" Marcella ran forward, and light came from her outstretched hand, but it was very weak and Massey blocked it with a wave of his hand, laughing.

"It stops now," Jane said wand out in front of her. She flicked and nothing happened, her vow prevented her from hurting him.

"This is getting funnier by the minute!" said Massey, and he swished his arm and Jane was blown back over the top of the bar landing behind it with a thump.

Jane was now certain he could hurt _her, _to some extent. She looked under the bar for anything that might help them, even an extra wand or something.

Hermione also realized that Jane couldn't harm Massey while her weird vow still held. She looked to Ginny and could see her holding her arm which was bleeding profusely.

Massey held the terrified Marvelo by the throat, and Gaunt walked forward, but Massey shot off a curse at him which threw him back. "You'll be next, then your wife. Now, come on little lad."

He lowered his hand over Marvelo's head and Hermione attacked again, which distracted him, but he deflected both of her curses and the second one he aimed back at her, bringing her to her knees.

_This is ridiculous. _She thought. _These 'freelance' guys seem to have an answer to everything._

Massey shot another curse Hermione's way and then waved a hand putting up a shield, as he then jerked his hand towards Marvelo.

_BOOOOM!_

Everyone cringed and ducked their head down, not knowing what it was or where it had come from. The smell of cordite was familiar to Hermione and she looked round to see Jane standing there, near the bar, with a smoking flintlock pistol, gripped in both hands.

Massey had dropped to his knees a round, blackened, hole in his forehead, with a bit of blood trickling from it, and his whole body slumped, eyes lifeless, as his face changed slowly back to his true face, which was still very like the John Massey Hermione and Ginny knew. Marvelo shrieked, his mother running to him.

"How?" Hermione asked a shaking Jane.

"It's not magic. I didn't know it if would work...I found it under the bar," Jane said, her hands shaking slightly, continuing to hold the pistol.

Hermione went to Jane and slowly took the gun off her, Anne Lister walked more into the room and took the smoking gun from Hermione, checked it had expended all its charge and was safe to lay on a table. The brunette got Jane to sit down, then she ran over to her partner. "Why are you always doing this?"

"Why are you always chewing my arse off about it?" said a pale-faced, but grinning, Ginny.

"Because I might have bloody lost you, that's why!" Not caring about the blood, she gently held Ginny to her.

"Behind you..." Ginny alerted her partner.

Hermione spun, wand out, but it was Marcella and Gaunt.

The Gaunt couple held their hands out in a calm motion. Hermione could see that Marvelo was hiding behind his mother nearly clinging to her. "We won't harm you," Marcella said.

"We want to thank you," said Morten. "I don't know what to say. You saved my boy."

"Even though he..."

"He's not mine, no, but I've been there since he was born...he's mine even if his blood might not be."

_Mind you,_ thought Hermione, _with all that inbreeding in this area, he might still have a bit of Morten's blood. _"What about her?" Hermione pointed to Massey's wife as she stood passively over her husband's body.

"She isn't like him," said Marcella. "She's been bloody terrified. None of this was her choice."

"You weren't complaining about the Riddles they were killing?"

"We were trying to keep our lad safe," said Gaunt. "I knew they wouldn't get his inheritance and it would be his one day, anyway."

"Well, you shouldn't be thanking me, you should be thanking _her_," Hermione pointed to Jane who was sitting at a table, looking a bit shocked, listening to it all.

"I'm sorry that I ever helped anyone that had any chance of hurting your son," Jane said dazed. "None of this was supposed to happen...if he hadn't been such a greedy..."

"You helped when it mattered," said Marcella.

Hermione brought out the dittany from her beaded bag, not wanting to wait any longer and tipped some drops onto the deep gash Ginny had on her arm, causing her wife to groan and grit her teeth, then lean against her tiredly.

"She'll be okay," Marcella pointed to Ginny. "It's only a draught to make a person sleepy. It can come and go, till it's slept off properly for a day or two."

"Oh, and we'll sort out the body, no one will know about it," said Gaunt to Jane. "Anything you want from us is yours."

"Can I talk with Jane a few moments?" Hermione asked, as she suddenly had a huge thought, the kind that hit her as if it had been obvious all along.

Anne Lister came over and helped prop up a, now woozy and once again sleepy, Ginny into a chair. Hermione beckoned Jane closer.

"I have a suggestion which I think...might be fate," said Hermione.

"As to fate," Jane sighed. "My Massey relative was supposed to die this year...but thought to be by the hand of a bodysnatcher a bit later in the month. One of his business associates, in fact."

"Really?" Hermione was momentarily thrown off course.

"I just knew I had to do something as the little boy has to live, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, I think he does," Hermione replied. "That's not what I was going to say. I don't think your family were ever meant to _own_ this pub. But I think they get their foot in the door, so to speak, around this time. Ask the Gaunts to let your great-times-whatever grandmother run it for them, for their Riddle boy, anyway."

"I wonder if that was what happened all along?" wondered Jane.

"I'm sure it wasn't exactly like this but...I would say they connected in some way this year," explained Hermione. "I wonder if Gaunt can arrange for a bodysnatcher scenario to cover for Massey's body?"

"I'll sort it out with them," said Jane.

"Are you okay? Killing someone is not something anyone gets used to and accept."

"I don't know yet. I only know I had to stop this madness, and if I'm punished back in our time, I'll face it then...if I _can _go back?" Jane frowned.

"His death should have broken the vow, so yes you will go back with us."

"I'll talk to the Gaunts," Jane walked back to the bar area where Gaunt and his wife were drinking some brandy, their son not letting go of his mother.

"Is Ginny all right?" Anne asked Hermione, looking worriedly at the redhead who was nearly sleeping on Anne's shoulder as she leaned against her.

"She should be. We'll need to get back, if that's all right with you? And take Jane with us."

"I said so, and I stand by it."

"Are your aunt, father and sister due back?"

"Not that I know of, but I'll deal with it, if they do arrive back."

"Thank you."

A few minutes later Jane walked back to them.

"Sorted out?" inquired Hermione.

"Yeah. They didn't want to run a pub anyway. They probably think it's below them, now."

"At some point, part of their family ends up back in the hovel hut in the forest," said Hermione. "But I have no idea about that, and at this precise moment don't care, that's not why we're here."

"So, what happens now?"

"We go back to Shibden Hall and take you with us, then when Ginny is feeling better, we'll go back to our time."

"That's the best thing I've heard suggested since I made this awful bloody trip," said Jane.

"Do you have any things at the manor house?"

"No, I err...have an enchanted bag," said Jane. "I made one. I don't think it can carry what your one can, but it's enough for what I needed," she muttered.

Hermione stood up and went to talk to the Gaunts. "We're going to leave now, and you're unlikely to ever see us again. Don't mess up this chance you have with your son."

"We won't," said Marcella, she and her husband dipping their heads to her in respect.

_Actually, I do wonder how it goes wrong for them later, _thought Hermione. _Maybe the next generation have an almighty split and they become Riddles and Gaunts again and the latter have a more insane streak...maybe someone lashes out...It would seem the Massey's were grateful to the Gaunts and Riddles from this moment...which is how that Massey I met in 1943 was looking out for Morfin Gaunt for Voldemort...hmm..Gaunt AND Riddle in more ways than one._

"Ready?" Jane asked.

"Yeah," Hermione, replied. She held Ginny and asked the other two women to hold onto her as she Side-Along Apparated them all back to the Red Room at Shibden Hall.

Ginny immediately flopped onto the bed and nearly fell asleep. Hermione removed their glamours and she looked to Jane, who quickly removed hers, her auburn hair coming back through the dark brown. She then handed the bottle of tonic, she had used herself the day before, to her wife.

"I can't tell you how good it is to be me again," said Jane.

"Holding a disguise that long can be much more draining than using polyjuice potion," replied Hermione, tiredly, the events of yesterday and today making her bone tired. "There are two things I insist upon now, before you leave this room, and that is to hand over your Time-Turner and your wand."

Jane looked surprised, but simply nodded. "To be honest, Professor, I'll be glad to be rid of both for the moment." She brought out a small drawstring purse fudged around then brought out a pocket-watch-sized instrument, which absolutely fascinated Anne Lister. With chain and all, she handed it to her professor. Then handed over her wand from her sleeve.

Hermione hovered her own wand over it, checking it was indeed Jane's and not a fake. Then she looked at the Time-Turner and was slightly shocked to see that the diamond used, had completely blackened. "This wouldn't have worked anyway."

"What?" Jane was wide-eyed.

"It's broken," said Hermione. "It looks similar to how the one we used back in 1998 looked when it had broken."

"Professor Flitwick let me come here with a faulty Time-Turner?!"

"Woah, now, hang on a minute!" exclaimed Hermione. "Firstly, he tried to self-sabotage _all_ the Time-Turners so none of you could go anywhere. It was just luck yours worked at all. Secondly your bloody parents were threatening his family."

"Threatening his family?" Jane was surprised. "I thought he was helping because he wanted to. He seemed enthusiastic, like he orchestrated most of the plan. I badgered him to make Time-Turners but _I_ never threatened him."

"No, he would never have gone anywhere near this...this _project_, had it not been from fear of something happening to them," explained Hermione.

"I didn't know. I knew they'd spoken to him...but...and I asked him a few times, like my parents asked me to...but..."

"If anything is to be corrected from this mess, it will be your parents made to account for what they've done, whether it is muggle or magical law that deals with them," stated Hermione.

"They'll kill me...they'll..."

"If you cooperate fully, and yes you will probably still have punishment in some way, but if you help with this whole mess and tell the absolute truth, then you might get out of this whole sorry ordeal slightly better than expected."

"I'm sorry...I..."

Hermione turned to Anne. "Is there a room she can have?"

"Yes, I thought we'd put her in the Guest Room," replied Anne Lister, looking reprovingly at her new house guest.

"What's the time?" Hermione asked

Anne looked at her pocket watch. "Twenty past four."

The brunette looked to Ginny dozing on the bed, for which it looked like the tonic hadn't invigorated. "We'll need a couple more hours before we can leave." Then she looked back to Jane. _Can I trust her?_ She wondered._ I need to, but..._

"I don't want to lock you in a room," Hermione said to her former student. "But I must have some surety of you staying here. I'm sure you won't like it, but I want to bind you with another type of unbreakable vow, just so you can't leave here or do any more harm or have harm come to you."

"I don't mind staying in a room," said Jane. "I have nowhere to go and I don't feel like talking much. I'm a bit tired to be honest."

"All right, then we'll get some food sent up to you while we're here and keep you locked in," said Hermione.

Anne saw about getting some bread, cheese and fruit, brought up for them all and left in their rooms and leaving a couple of books for her to pass the time, they then locked Jane into the Guest Room and Hermione added her own magical locking.

Anne went to her own rooms and Hermione went to Ginny, who looked sound asleep. Hermione checked her arm and that all was healed, then performed a cleaning spell to take away the blood and stains. With a little magic she moved Ginny to a more comfortable position and covered her with a blanket. Then feeling very tired herself, she sat on the side of the bed thinking the past two days were catching up with her; she exhaled a breath of relief, that they had even got to this point.

A hand reached out and took hers. "We did it," said the redhead. "Somehow."

"Not without some tension along the way."

"But, we did it." Ginny then put her hand to her head. "I'm just so tired."

"I have no idea what they drugged you with, something herbal, no doubt."

"It's not as bad as it was, a bit like a hangover."

"Jane says she's fine to stay in her room. Perhaps we should think about an early morning travel back, rather than tonight?"

"Fine with me, whatever it is."

"Hmm, I'd better let Anne know." Hermione said in almost a resigned way.

"Hermione..." Ginny started and then stopped.

"What?"

The redhead had a strange expression, like she was overthinking something yet not quite grasping it.

"Does your head hurt?" Hermione asked.

"Not in the usual way."

"Do you want to try some more tonic?"

"No. I...,"

"What?

Ginny sat up and held her hand. "It's all right, you know. I know what _she_ means to you and I also know Anne is not a problem to me or to us. It would be one hell of a weird thing to explain to others, so I won't, but _I_ get it, okay? _I_ understand."

"She _isn't_ a threat to you or us. Although alive and breathing she's still basically a ghost of the past," Hermione said.

"A ghost with rather skillful fingers," said Ginny with a raised eyebrow. "Look, I'm tired, once I go to sleep it might be a while before I wake up. Be with her,"

"I won't leave you like this, not when you feel unwell, especially not now."

"I'm not in danger, except of deep sleep. But, if you get the offer, I'm fine if you spend it with her...providing you tell me all about it. A last chance for both of you."

"This is twisted!"

"Not to me, it isn't."

"I don't want to do that again," Hermione said tiredly. "I can't believe you're even offering that permission!? I am fond of her, though."

"At least go and talk with her, then. It's your last chance...besides, if something else happened, I rather liked what she did to you before."

Hermione blushed, but Ginny leaned forward and kissed her. "It's okay, my love. As we said before, maybe it's you that is the thing that makes her bold enough to chase that other Ann."

"I think my head is in enough knots without adding the fate implications again, urgghh!" Hermione stuck her tongue out.

"Anyway, I need to sleep. Go talk to her. I'll see you later, or tomorrow morning."

"You must be tired not to want any food first."

"Always a first time for everything!"

Hermione kissed Ginny again and the redhead settled down, even flicking her wand to change into a night shirt and her head hitting the pillow, she found sleep almost immediately. The brunette stared at her and had to admit since they stepped back inside Shibden Hall, she had a feeling of sadness at leaving. She had spent the past week in close proximity to history; to a woman that despite her many controversies and contradictions, was utterly fascinating to engage with. She felt genuine affection for her, beyond attraction and she knew it was something unique to the moment and situation, because Anne Lister would not be Hermione's idea of a possible life partner, but even knowing that consideration hadn't stopped her from nearly wanting to fall at her feet. She wanted Ginny, she wanted nothing else in her life except Ginny, but this very small part of her had room for Anne. And Ginny knew that and was all right with it, was even encouraging it. _A psychologist would have a party with this situation,_ she thought. _But that's not what I want this time._

She walked out of the Red Room, closing the door behind her, and using a locking charm, on the off chance that some sort of trouble came looking for them again. It then occurred to her that she hadn't a clue where Anne's room was to even go and chat. So she stopped outside Jane's room and listened. She could hear some pages being turned of a book. As she looked to walk away, Anne appeared from the dark landing and got hold of her hand. "Come, talk with me," she said.

Hermione followed Anne Lister along a hallway with a few changes of level on the floors and almost feeling like a hiding hole or a rabbit warren, or possibly a tree house, she walked up a few steps and into Anne's room.

Anne took off her outer jacket and threw it over a chair and indicated that Hermione could sit on the end of the bed; a comfortable four poster with curtains, the colour of which, made Hermione smile. Anne poured a couple of glasses of ale from a jug sitting there and asked if she wanted any food, but Hermione shook her head, then looked at the bed, which looked identical to the one she and Ginny devised in their last year at Hogwarts.

"What's amusing?" asked Anne, uncertainly, sitting next to Hermione on the bed passing her a cup.

"The bed," said Hermione. "It reminds me of the ones we had in the dormitories at school, especially in our last year as Head Girls, so it feels familiar."

They talked for a long time about the difference in boarding schools and touching onto subjects taught in modern muggle schools and the changes in a lot of things.

"I have seen some very strange things this past week," said Anne. "I'm not sure I will ever be able to understand some of them, however hard I rationalize."

"Some things can't be explained; even in my time, a lot of things are a mystery."

"You live near Bristol, if I remember?" Anne asked. "If indeed that part was true."

"It was. We have a house in a semi-magical village, but during the quidditch season Ginny spends some nights at a team house near Holyhead on Anglesey. And I stay some nights at the school, which is in Scotland."

"It must be hard, to be apart like that?"

"With our mode of travel it's not too bad, but I'm still thinking I might resign," Hermione sighed. "Incidents like this situation rarely happen, but it makes me question everything."

"I could never teach children." Anne admitted. "I have neither the patience nor tolerance. I mean, what does one actually_ do_ with a child? Very few meaningful conversations, utter nonsense most of the time. And is there really some joy in trying to convert that stubborn nonsense into intelligence? And they are always frightfully messy, especially the younger ones."

"That's one way of looking at it," said Hermione with a little chuckle. "I teach eleven to eighteen year-olds. They do get more cocky as they get older. Probably a little bit of the problem with Jane. She thought she knew it all."

"What do you think will happen to that girl when she gets back with you, I know you said before that physical punishment doesn't exist there?" Anne asked.

"I'm not completely sure. Ginny and I will explain everything that has happened here, and it seems as though Jane wants to be honest too. I still expect her to have some prison time, or a suspended sentence, if she does have the nerve to stand against her parents. One thing that can be done is a spell on her wand to see what the last spells she cast were. If she's been telling the truth, then it will look better. But that needs to be done by aurors, law enforcement, with witnesses."

"It seems you will be busy as soon as you arrive back?"

"Yeah, it will be. It's another thing to add to my job happiness taking a dive," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I left law enforcement from similarly apathetic feelings, and it seems teaching has turned out the same for me and now the two things have crossed paths and I dislike both."

"You have to try and do what makes you happy," said Anne. "If one is in a position to choose."

"I am. I just don't know what I should do next if I do resign. I might take my time over that choice," then Hermione sighed. "I'll probably get a reputation as someone that can't decide about anything."

"I don't know about that," Anne said with a little laugh. "I've seen you make some very sharp choices, in life and death moments, this past week. Those are decisions made when it counts most."

Anne was silent, obviously thinking hard about something she wanted to say, and finally said it. "Do you _have_ to work? You said Ginny earns more than you?"

"She does, a lot more. I...I don't want to do nothing. I hate being idle and twiddling my thumbs, I'll have to do something. I do want to settle to something, I really do..."

"How much does Ginny earn...if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'll need to convert it," Hermione said, working out the amount in pounds from galleons and looking forward to the reaction. "About twenty thousand."

"Pounds? A year?" Anne was astonished and impressed.

"A week."

"A week?! Twenty thousand pounds a week? You're teasing me?!"

"I'm not, why would I?" Hermione smiled, enjoying the reaction, not from boastfulness but because she knew it would be hard for Anne to comprehend. "She's one of the better paid players. She also gets bonuses sometimes, on top of that."

"I can't quite fathom this," said Anne.

"I'm being slightly disingenuous," allowed Hermione. "The pounds we use there are different to here. We changed to just pounds and pence in the 1970s – decimalisation, a hundred pennies in the pound. And with time, things cost different amounts. But she is still incredibly well paid compared to an average muggle that might get between eighteen to twenty-five thousand a year."

"Why are you working at all?" asked a befuddled Anne Lister.

"Because I have a brain and would be bored stiff doing nothing. If only I could work out what it was I really wanted to do."

Anne got hold of her hand, recovering from her shock, only because she refused to think on it too much and gloss over it. "You will be fine with whatever you decide to follow. And if you move from a path again, maybe your true path is to meander backwards and forwards across many paths. Perhaps no one thing can contain you."

Hermione laughed, stopped than laughed again. "That's what I think about you. Nothing can totally contain _you_."

"I've heard it said, or certainly implied," said an amused Anne. "And I admit, I usually take it as a compliment rather than a criticism."

A silence for a moment or two, then Hermione spoke. "I'm going to miss you; miss the conversations." She felt the hand holding hers stiffen then squeeze.

"And I you," said Anne softly. "You have been this whirlwind that blew in from exotic places and brought a storm of wonder, a rain of wisdom and sunshine of spirit."

"I don't think I've ever been given such a poetic compliment," said Hermione. "I've brought a lot of death and danger too."

"Where there is life, there is death, and where there are a multitude of lives, so must there be many kinds of death. I admit to being invigorated, being involved. To be wanted for my skills in the ways I can help."

"I spent most of my early life being hated and insulted, and later being the object of certain death," said Hermione. "I was the clever, plain girl with the uncontrollable bushy hair, from a non-magical family. Aligned with a famous student in his fight against evil forces, which didn't suit a lot of people either. I've learned that, even if you changed the things which you thought you were bullied for that, you'd be bullied for something else and on and on it would go, round in circles until you got back to the start again, and you'd still be bullied, or at least disliked. If your face doesn't fit, it just doesn't fit."

"I'm familiar with that feeling," Anne agreed. "It's a quality of character to carry on regardless. You seem to do just that. _I_ always try to."

"I know, which is probably why I just blurted all of that out, I'm not usually so..."

Hermione didn't get to finish her sentence, as Anne had quickly leaned in and kissed her on the lips, gentle and tender, and when Anne ended the kiss, a small sigh escaped her, before she kissed Hermione's cheek, then held her tightly, nuzzling into her neck.

It was short time before Hermione was aware that Anne was crying or trying not to and she didn't have a clue what to say.

She felt a kiss to her neck. "If only things were different," Anne said in a low husky voice from a tight emotional throat. "If only you could be mine. The things we would have shared. The things we could have shown each other. You compliment me so perfectly."

"At least we met," answered Hermione. "If some good can come from any of this, then I will take the time I've spent with you. Talking with you has been so wonderful."

She held Anne firmly, rubbing a soothing hand to her back, before she whispered in her ear. "And I'll always remember what you did to me yesterday."

"Ah...well..."

"As will Ginny," Hermione laughed and tried to lighten the mood. "She actually...err...enjoyed it too."

Finally Anne pulled back, took some steadying breaths, but held onto Hermione's hands, the brunette looking into her face, concerned. "I'll be fine. I'll be all right. I'm always all right in the end."

"That's one of your amazing qualities," said Hermione. "Your positivity...it..."

"Is that the 'ooze' part again?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, you ooze that for sure."

Anne hugged her again and whispered. "I assure you I ooze something else for you too."

"Only fair, after the state you got me into."

They kissed again, Hermione melted into it, the sensitivity and gentleness, surprising her, but it felt plutonic and she was fine with that too. The action of it was a way of conveying the much deeper and more complicated processes at work, which language, in any form, would fail to quantify for either of them. It was still completely different to what she felt with Ginny, this was almost certainly uniquely for Anne Lister. _I guess the confusion is when you fuck with the timelines,_ she thought. _Literally!_

As they parted, Hermione cupped Anne's cheek with her hand. "You have me for one more night."

Anne gave a mildly confused frown.

"To talk to, not...well if you...only I wouldn't...oh bugger...," Hermione said, nervous she might have insulted her host and began to babble. "Bollocks! I've said something vulgar, haven't I? Insinuated something I didn't intend. There's something about you, Anne Lister. Something I can't describe that makes me act differently. Ginny seems to understand it better than I do; you have this effect on me...she even thinks it could be fate."

"Then what a horrible fate it is," said a serious Anne. "To put you in front of me, but still take you away."

"It is what it is," said Hermione, more calmly than she felt. "I meant just talk. Or...I can go, if it's too offending to even think on what I just said so clumsily – to offer something I didn't mean to, then take it away, even though I didn't mean it in the first place. I keep forgetting on the differences in the way we talk." Hermione stood up and reluctantly walked toward the door. _I should have just kept to talking on safer subjects,_ she thought.

"Wait," Anne said, getting to her feet and walking over to her.

Hermione had opened the door slightly, but Anne walked up behind and reached around her, shutting the door then holding her there.

"Wait," Anne almost whispered again. "Can you lock and silence the room, like you did with the Red Room? So that we may _talk_ freely?"

"I can," Hermione turned, her face close to Anne as she nearly pinned Hermione to the door. She brought out her wand and a couple of wordless flicks had both charms set.

"When I was younger," Anne nearly whispered. "I would have had you in my bed with the click of my fingers. However, a bruised heart and disappointed dreams tends to make one re-evaluate all actions. Be they vulgar, or irrational."

"I'm sure this has been a bit of both," said Hermione with a shrug of her shoulders. "Although, I admit to being unsure as to which bit is which."

"Your mind and my mind meet on the same level, Ginny's too to some extent, but there's something about you. I've never come across it before with any woman. I want you, but not to own you. I'm not sure I could, even if I tried?!"

"I'm sure that experiment could have been fun," said Hermione, with a crooked smile.

"You see? The comical retorts, it fascinates me and ignites every fibre of my being." Anne traced the cheek and jaw of Hermione with her thumb and finger. "When I say something to a woman, normally, I never usually get anything back, not of real substance. _Normally_ I would be uncomfortable with this situation of equals, you're not usually my type."

"My only type has been Ginny, but I know what you mean. One of my faults, which was frequently used to put me down, was calling me an insufferable know-it-all," Hermione sighed. "I suppose I am."

"As am I," said Anne. "Or I was until I met you, with all your fantastical tales. It has been challenging to feel _less_ than one feels _usually_."

"Oh, you are _not_ less!" said Hermione adamantly. "You never could be. Time is the only barrier between my knowledge and yours. If you lived in my time, you'd still be a genius."

"And insane from all your so-called progress," said Anne, flatly.

"Didn't Seneca say:_ 'There is no genius without a touch of madness'_?"

"You've read Seneca?"

"Not specifically, I'm just good at remembering quotes," said Hermione. "See? You would know much more about it than me. You've probably read it in Latin."

"I have, actually."

Hermione chuckled softly.

Anne got hold of one of Hermione's hand and kissed it. "I can't quite believe we're standing here like this and debating academic issues."

"Me neither," said the brunette with a grin.

Anne leaned in and placed an almost chaste kiss on Hermione's cheek. "I _would _have you, but having done what we already have, I can't be like that again. Come sit with me, let us at least talk in the time we have left." She sat on her bed, leaning back against the headboard and patted the place beside her.

Anne got hold of Hermione's hand again. "Something I must ask you: you said your parents were dentists? You _did_ mean your mother too?"

"Yes."

"And that's a normal profession, for a woman in your time?"

"Yes. As is being doctors and surgeons," Hermione smiled at Anne's surprise.

"One of the first woman doctors happens in this century, but by my time it's completely normal. The same with vets...animal doctors."

"Is there anything that women _are_ barred from?"

"Technically front line warfare in the infantry, in the British Army anyway; that might be changing soon and besides, women have always been on the front line, just not officially there and not carrying weapons, which is in fact scarier. And that's since time began."

"How very true," Anne said thinking deeply. "I hadn't thought of it like that before." After a pause of silence she said. "Oh and the church and clergy wouldn't be open to women."

Hermione slowly shook her head and couldn't help but laugh at Anne's expression. "Not in the Catholic church, but most other denominations have women vicars, preachers, reverends or whatever they call themselves."

"I'm not sure how I would like that."

"I confess to you, that I'm an atheist, as is Ginny. The time we come from finds the United Kingdom a place where the church doesn't really play that much of a role in the average person's life and there is a very definite secular approach to things, but if we were religious, then a woman vicar makes sense. Think of the three main services: baptism, marriage and funeral. A woman is usually present at all of those things: giving birth, making a home and caring for an ill relative or friend; even in our time of more equality, it is more often the woman taking on _all_ of those roles. What better person, with empathy, than a woman vicar?"

"Your argument is convincing, but I would need longer to really consider it," Anne was quiet again before she asked. "Is there something about being here that has surprised you, in a good way?"

"Not quite as smelly as I envisaged," Hermione laughed.

"Is this era recorded as being particularly odorous?" Anne asked.

"Well, hygiene and personal cleanliness are not something this era is famed for, nor adequate sewage and sanitation systems. I haven't noticed it much, though, unless I got used to it very fast...or have been too busy to notice."

"How do you and Ginny manage to smell so nice? It's one of the first things I noticed about you."

Hermione laughed again. "A wand works wonders when there is no bath or shower easily accessible.",

"I did wonder."

"And in case you're wondering, you don't smell either," said Hermione. "Not badly, only clean and refined...with perhaps a tinge of either rose water, or lavender."

"I'm not sure if I should sound pleased or affronted, that you wondered if I did smell or not?"

"Neither. And if you think on it too long, it will only add to the brain fog in general."

"Brain fog? I like that," said Anne nodding. "Do you play a musical instrument?"

"No, it never occurred to me to try, then I never had the time."

"I can play reasonably on flute and piano," Anne said proudly. "Do you have any music you like? A particular composer? A favourite opera?"

"Ah, well," Hermione tilted her head. "I like Mozart, Beethoven and so on...as much as the next person, but the kind of every day music I like would be like nothing you could imagine."

"How so?"

"Loud, lots of different sounds within pieces and a total variance on vocals," Hermione thought on what to say next. "I like styles of music that are called rock and pop, I even like a bit of dance and trance."

"Can you sing something from your time?"

"Good grief, no! I can't hold a tune in a bucket," said Hermione laughing, then she thought, and got her beaded bag and brought out her ipod, used her wand to make sure it was charged. She wondered for a moment what she should pick. _Probably not Metallica, nor Eminem. Perhaps a little 80s/90s pop, _she thought. Thankful for the silencing charm, she projected the ipod to be heard and played the first thing that came up in the random section she tapped: 'Heaven is a Place on Earth' by Belinda Carlisle. She watched Anne's face with a combination of amusement and dread, that it might be too much. Without saying anything the next one she swapped over to was 'Only You' by Alison Moyet. After which she stopped and waited, looking to Anne for some kind of reaction, or opinion, when that wasn't forthcoming she worried more.

"Well? Did you hate them? Vulgar? Too noisy? Too busy?"

"I don't honestly know what to think," said Anne. "They're not subtle with meaning. What on earth was making all the sound. Drums I heard...but..."

"Various types of guitar, keyboards...a kind of electronic piano that play all kinds of beats and sounds...to name a few."

"I can't admit to liking it, but I don't hate it. The woman on the second track has a very unusual resonant voice."

"Yeah, Alison Moyet is a superb singer, in the lower range."

"Do they really believe what they sing?" Anne asked.

"On some level; they were inspired to write the lyrics or interpret the songs, so yes, would be the answer, along with knowing what the audience would like...how they speak to the audience's own experiences." Hermione paused. "I dropped you in lightly, those two songs would be seen as more retro in my time...from a slightly earlier era."

"I can see the overall bludgeoning effect draws a person in," analysed Anne. "The beat...it's very different to Mozart, or Bach."

"This is the thing; as good as those composers are, you can't really sing to them in the shower," said Hermione, "Where as, modern music is almost designed to get stuck in your head, so you hum it and sing it at leisure." She then had a thought. "I'll try one more, that might suit better."

Hermione picked out the track 'Only Time' by Enya and she watched Anne as it played and saw some emotion come forth and almost get shaken away.

When it had finished Anne said in nearly a whisper, not trusting her full voice not to crack. "That's like she was singing about here, about you."

"I didn't pick it for that, but I suppose it really was appropriate."

"This Enya woman, her voice is ethereal, angelic, so...soothing."

"I agree," replied Hermione. "She has that quality to all her songs, and some are sung in her native Irish. I've always found she's soothed my soul when it's been a tough day."

Anne sighed. "Well, it's another glimpse into that secret, unattainable world."

"And completely illegal," said Hermione. "By rights, when we leave, I should wipe your memory so you remember nothing of this time. That's what usually happens in our time, when non-magical people see something they're not supposed to. By my showing you all that I have done, would be an offence in my time and it would be rectified."

Anne stiffened and for the first time looked at her with unease, slowly moving her hand away.

To see that unease in Anne's face and body language, and that it was close to the look of one betrayed, or even having suffered physical attack, brought tears to Hermione's eyes.

She clasped Anne's hand. "I would not do that to you. I promise you, I will not touch you or your beautiful mind. I could never do that to you."

"You are saying that you should, normally? So why show me anything, knowing you are breaking some law?"

"Because I know you are intelligent enough to try and understand, to find wonder rather than fear at our world. Believe me," said Hermione, looking directly into Anne's face, holding that penetrating gaze. "I could never tamper with your mind. I will not do it, nor allow anyone else to. As true as you can feel my heart beating."

Hermione moved the hand she clasped to lay flat on her chest. Anne's fingers stretched out slightly, feeling the steady beat of Hermione's heart.

"I believe you," Anne said. "You had me worried. Although, if you had _already_ altered my mind, I suppose I would not know?"

"I haven't!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I know...I think." Anne sat back and looked into Hermione's face. "Having said that, I wonder if losing my memories of you might be less painful."

This time Hermione looked concerned. "I'm _not_ touching your mind. Sometimes those _Obliviate_ spells can go wrong and make people more forgetful than just about the time you want to erase. I've wanted the laws changed on that for years. I...I used it on my parents nine years ago."

"What? Why?"

Hermione explained what she had done to her parents; it was for their safety, but she hadn't known if she would ever get them back or if they would be permanently damaged. "I've always felt a little ashamed about it."

"You most likely saved them, from what you've told me," said Anne.

"It's still a violation. An unasked for, 'treatment' without consent...it's...it's not pleasant." Hermione dipped her head. "That is why I would never use it on you."

Anne put her hand under Hermione's chin to get her to look up. "I know that, now. I believe you. I trust you. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around Hermione, and stayed that way in silence for a few deep and peaceful moments.

**A/N: The first two songs really were random, picked by my laptop shuffle through my 1980s stuff, so apologies if they seemed a bit drippy or offensive to people that hate those songs. The Enya one picked itself, though. **


	14. Chapter 14 The Tree

Chapter Fourteen - "The Tree"

After having talked for a long time, Anne asked if Hermione would sleep alongside her that night, but only if Ginny was all right about it. The brunette confessed of the talk she and Ginny had had and that the redhead would be sleeping off the drugged lemonade tonight, before their journey.

They ate some of the food that had been brought to them, then considered getting into something more comfortable to sleep. Hermione used her wand to freshen up and treated Anne to the experience, which provided an array of facial expressions in a short space of time.

Hermione used her wand to change into her night gear and Anne changed into hers around the corner of the bed, both unsure as to whose benefit that was for. The former kept her eyes on a book she pulled out from her beaded bag, as if to solve that issue.

"Are the names still correct?" asked Anne, as she got into the bed.

"Yeah, I don't even know why I'm checking, as it should all be solved, now."

"Perfectionist; always checks the finite detail until the finite moment."

"Could be," Hermione slapped the book shut. "If it changed now, I almost couldn't care."

"You say that, but I'm certain you would, if it did change. I think I already know that you see things through to the end."

"Perhaps. Hopefully there won't be a need to test that theory."

"At least get under the sheet with me," Anne smiled, and tugged at the sheet that Hermione was sitting on the top of.

Hermione rolled her eyes and got under the sheet. It was a pleasantly warm, summer night, but would cool off later.

Anne was lying on her side looking at Hermione. "I think those couple of inches extra you have on me, are in your legs."

"I haven't thought on it," said Hermione looking down at her self. "I'm not considered tall where I come from, just average."

"Average? So it's normal to be taller for women in your time?"

Hermione rolled on her side to face Anne. "It's not that unusual for women to be over six feet tall. They still stand out, but so do men over six feet tall in an average setting."

"What's the reason?"

"I suppose some of it is a better diet and general health."

"When you first tried to explain things, you said you came from the year 2007?"

"Yes."

"Another millennium," said Anne, deep in thought. "One-hundred-and-seventy-five years in the future."

"It gets a little frightening when you say it like that," said Hermione, with a little throwaway laugh.

"When you leave, you won't just be from here to Bristol, or from here to Scotland, away from me, you'll be all those years away too. You might as well be sitting on the sun."

"That road only leads to brain fog and brain pain if you over-think it."

They talked a little longer, but both felt sleepy, and they settled to sleep, still on their sides facing each other, Anne holding Hermione's hand.

Hermione had entered a dream. There was a deep, fast-flowing river; she was on one bank and Ginny and Anne were on the other bank, calling to her. She kept trying to dip a foot into the water, to attempt crossing it, but the current was too fast. She was wondering why she wasn't using her wand and looked down at her hands. They were red with blood and in looking down she saw the two bits of tree branch that had impaled her in 1943, and she saw the cuts from the day before. Anne and Ginny continued to shout to her, but she couldn't hear either of them properly and had sunk to her knees. _What is going on? _she thought. She had the feeling that if she didn't get up soon she would die, and then the Massey family would win. She almost wanted to just end the torment. She fell head first into the river and was swept along. She was struggling to breathe, gurgling and her chest and side hurt terribly where the branches had impaled her body. Then she felt solid ground beneath her and both Ginny and Anne were beside her, looking intensely worried. Ginny said "It must never happen again!" And Anne said "You'll make sure it doesn't." Hermione tried to take in a deep breath but the pain was bad. She felt her hand and arm being held firmly...

"Wake up," said a familiar voice. "Come on, come back to me."

Hermione opened her eyes, gasping for breath, her chest aching. She saw Anne and thought it was peculiar and took another astonished gasp. The room was dark except for the low light of a candle that had just been lit.

"You're all right," Anne said to her.

Then Hermione, frantically looked down at herself. "No blood."

"_Should_ there be?" asked a worried Anne.

"No," said Hermione. "I had a bad dream...all those injuries. I felt those bloody bits of tree branch sticking into me again. After nine years? And those cuts from the other day. What the hell was that about?!"

"I'm afraid I have no answers."

Gasping again from pain, Hermione sat up and put her hands to her chest, and saw she wasn't bleeding and wasn't impaled.

"How can I help?" asked a worried Anne.

Hermione shook her head. "No blood, no branches...I think it's just muscles in spasm."

"Breathe slowly and gently and breathe a little deeper each time," said Anne, taking hold of her hand, getting her to lie down again, actually checking her pulse, at the wrist, against her pocket watch. "Do you get nightmares like this often?"

"No, only when time-travelling." Hermione took some calmer breaths. "I haven't had any bad dreams this time, until now, nor Ginny."

"Dreams are strange things. Some say they are a jumble of the things you didn't pay attention to during the day, but were important. Some say they foretell things." Seeing Hermione frown Anne quickly moved on, "I would say a lot of the time it's a tired mind trying to make sense of things."

"Whatever it is I would love not to experience it," Hermione lay her head back into the pillows, closed her eyes, and tried to breathe slower.

After a few minutes, she felt a hand take hold of hers again, and the other open her nightshirt slightly, her eyes shot open and then she felt a hand touch her, a finger following a definite line. She looked at Anne.

"Don't think badly of me, but you had me worried, I'm checking where you were hurt before. I cannot feel or see wounds, and there's definitely nothing piercing your flesh," Anne said, checking one more of the faint line scars. She looked up to Hermione, still looking a little wide-eyed from her bad dream and smiled at her, before moving up and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you, for trying to help," Hermione said softly. "I'm not usually this weak or weird."

"You are _not_ weak. You face everything head-on. Even the strongest of us have our moments," Anne smiled.

"It means something," said Hermione, almost to herself. "Ginny said 'It must never happen again' in that dream."

"Oh," Anne said, looking slightly guilty.

Hermione looked to her then squeezed the hand holding hers. "No, it wasn't about _that_. You said 'You'll make sure it doesn't.'"

"I did?"

"In the dream."

"Are you sure you're not giving too much stock to something in a dream?"

"Not these sorts." Hermione was silent. "I was hurt from both Masseys...so was it the injuries that must not happen again? Or was it the Masseys?"

Anne just watched her bedfellow, fascinated and a little concerned.

"'I'll make sure it doesn't'," Hermione muttered. "Does it mean I never time-travel again? Hardly likely, anyway. I'll never get injured again? Impossible to know. Unless...it wouldn't be...could that even be a _thing_?"

"Would you like a little brandy? Or something else to settle your nerves?" Anne asked.

"No, I'm fine," Hermione replied, then looked at Anne and laughed. "I know I don't look it, or sound it, but I am. I think you might have given me the answer."

"To what question?"

"My path."

"In life?"

"Possibly," Hermione answered. "The thing that got me injured both times, that made both situations more difficult and unknown, was the _actual_ unknown. This Massey family, in particular, have wizards, and probably witches, that seem to exist beyond the magical world. We don't even know about them. The one in 1943 called himself 'freelance', untrained he meant, because the authorities never knew about him, so he didn't go to school to be trained. I expect they're fairly weak in some ways, but strong in others. What if I were to study that? What if I made it the magical world's business, to find these freelance people. To assess how they even develop their magic and spell-casting with no training. I'm not sure how I would begin the process, but our Minister would certainly listen to me. At least Jane was found by the system, maybe there's a reason for it..."

"Is that Minister the one who leads your government?"

"Yes. I've know him for years. Fought alongside him too."

"Surely it would be in everyone's interests to know how many people like Massey there are?"

"Exactly," Hermione made a face. "I don't want it to be a literal 'witch hunt', that kind of thing would push the bad ones more undercover anyway, but it needs looking at. Hmm...a plan of action...discussions at the very least..."

"You sound like you might have found your next path?" Anne suggested.

"I'm only sorry I woke you in the process."

"If the outcome is as successful as this, then I'm glad I was awake to witness it."

Hermione squeezed Anne's hand. "Thank you for listening to my incessant babble. You are an extraordinary human being." She leaned over and pressed her lips to Anne's cheek, before settling back. "I'll let you catch some more sleep."

"That matters not, if I do or don't. I'll live, either way," Anne paused then said, "Is it the near-death-experiences which gives you these attacks of anxiety? I don't mean the dream, but the times I've seen you before?"

"Yes, I'm fairly certain it is, now," Hermione slowly nodded. "In my time, it was recognized as something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD for short. It often happens to soldiers or others having seen horrors, or shocking things. Mine was from the stress of what Ginny and I did in 1943, but mostly the fact I nearly died along with all the things that happened during that magical war."

"I see. Is there a prescribed treatment?"

"Many types. For me, I used non-medicinal treatment and it worked fine for seven years until recently, before we came here. Perhaps I sensed something was happening, and it was my body trying to warn me?"

"Can it not be cured?"

"I'm not sure it can, entirely," said Hermione. "I think it's something you learn to live with, and deal with, so it doesn't affect you as seriously. I will be looking at revisiting my coping methods when I get back. You've helped me understand some things too, probably more than I know." Anne smiled back at her.

They spoke a little more about Hermione's idea and gradually they both were sleepy enough to find sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Anne was first to wake the next morning. She had rolled onto her back in the night; she checked her pocket watch on her bedside, saw that it was 7.25am. She slowly rolled onto her side and watched a still sleeping Hermione and was mesmerised again, and also at how she had resisted the urge she had had; but there was something so respectful about their friendship, so pure, even after the dalliance they had experienced a couple of days ago, that she didn't regret, nor overly fantasize about it.

Within five minutes, Hermione awoke and initially not knowing where she was, saw Anne looking at her and remembered instantly.

"What's the time?"

"7.30am, now."

"I'd better get back and check on Ginny, and get us ready to go as soon as we can," the brunette said. But she leaned forward and kissed Anne on the cheek. "Thank you for last night."

Hermione got out of bed, found up her clothes from the previous day, did a cleaning spell on the them as well as herself, then flicked her wand to put them back on. "Want the same help?" she asked Anne.

"So, if I lay out the clothes to wear, you can put me in them with a flick of that wand?"

"Yes."

"Try anything once...do I get a clean-up again too?"

Almostly laughing, Hermione flicked a cleaning spell at Anne, who then moved the clothes she wanted to the bed and Hermione flicked her wand again and Anne gasped as she suddenly found herself clothed.

"Ooo, I forgot that this era's clothes can pinch a bit," said Hermione.

Anne put out a calming hand. "I'm perfectly fine...but, yes, it did nip a little."

"I'm going to miss you, Anne." she went and hugged her.

"And I you, both of you."

In trying to deflect the emotional pain that was threatening to push into Anne's mind, she picked up her pocket watch to put in her pocket and by habit opened it.

"I'm going to miss _that _too," said Hermione, wistfully.

Before turning to leave, she hugged Anne again. "Remember what I told you. You will find someone. Where the good will outweigh the bad. Keep your eyes and heart open. Be brave, so whomsoever it is, can be brave too."

Anne was stood stock still, then shook her head slightly. "I'll give you twenty minutes then come along, to say goodbye to Ginny." Spontaneously she leaned in and gently kissed Hermione on the lips one last time.

When Hermione stepped back again, she nodded, feeling torn in two directions. Her whole heart was Ginny's, but a little bit of it would always have empathy and love for Anne Lister too, in a slightly different way.

When she walked back to the Red Room, Ginny awoke on her closing the door.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," said Ginny. "No idea what that crap was, but it made me so slow and sleepy."

"I was talking with Anne last night."

"_Talking_ with Anne?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, sounding glum. "She's going to miss us."

"Miss _you_," said an astute Ginny. "Kiss you goodbye, did she?"

When Hermione didn't answer, Ginny went to her and hugged her. "We talked about this, I'm fine with it. So did you do anything else?"

"No. We _did_ only talk and have a couple of kisses. I didn't want more, and I'm not sure she wanted it either. Not once it's really been thought about."

"Then you slept?"

"Yes. I had a really weird, nasty dream, though." Hermione then told Ginny about her dream and what she thought it meant, as the redhead dressed herself, using her wand and putting shoes on the slow way.

"I think you're onto something with that idea," said Ginny. "I really do. I'll support you, whatever you decide. And if you need to go through your therapy programme again, I'll be there for you."

Hermione hugged her wife and kissed her. "I really don't deserve you sometimes...most of the time."

Ginny pressed her lips to Hermione's. "We could spend ages deciding which one of us doesn't deserve the other most, but we don't have that kind of time. So, I'll just say, I love you."

"I love you, Ginny." Hermione smiled and kissed her wife again. "We'd better get ready. Anne said she'd be along in a few minutes to say goodbye, so I'd better go fetch Jane."

"I'll make sure we haven't left anything behind."

Hermione went down the hall to the Guest Room and knocked on the door before removing the locking charm.

A voice said "Come in."

Hermione was surprised to see her former student dressed and ready, just closing a book.

"Hi, Professor," said Jane.

"We're going to leave in a few minutes, have you got everything?"

"Yeah, all in my little bag."

"Come to the Red Room with me."

They met Anne on the landing and all went into the Red Room, Ginny was sitting on a chair and looking at one of Hermione's books. "Still says Riddle for both."

"Good," said Hermione, then she turned to Jane. "I'm sorry you didn't change what you wanted to, but you must see now that it was dangerous."

"Yeah, I got the memo," said Jane.

"You're bloody lucky that nothing major _was_ changed," said Ginny.

"I'm not sure it can be," said Jane. "Several times I went through things and everything major still ended up how it always was, with perhaps a slight detour, but the same result."

"I'm of the opinion that large things can't be totally changed," said Hermione. "Or, it's the hope I've had. The little details can be changed, but ultimately the bigger themes, or events, can't be."

"If so," said Anne. "Then that Marvelo boy was never likely to die."

"Well, I never want to test the theory to the extreme," said Hermione. "Instinct always makes us act in situations like that...but maybe..."

"_Maybe_ the instinct is because it is a set fate and something steps in to block a deviation, be it someone being in the right or wrong place, or acting on a situation," said Ginny. "That's the only reason I can think of for why I attacked a guy without my wand with a head-on lunge. Because that was bloody stupid of me!"

"Yet brave and courageous," said Anne.

"...and bloody stupid," said Hermione, but she was smiling. Then her face dropped. "We had better get back."

She looked in her beaded bag and pulled out the Time-Turner, checking the diamond was good and likely to be in working order. Then she put her hand into her bag and pulled out Jane's broken Time Turner. She wasn't going to tell her she had other diamonds that might repair it. She wriggled the blackened gem stone and it finally came free, she handed the stone to Anne. "A memento. I can't leave the whole instrument, in case someone works out how to use it."

Anne turned the small blackened diamond over in her hand. "It's like onyx or Whitby jet, only with the facets of a diamond. It's beautiful."

Ginny stepped forward and hugged Anne, surprising the woman, but she hugged her back. "Whatever happens, always be true to yourself. Be you."

"I will," said Anne, thoughtfully.

"Ginny, Jane, hold onto my arms, and don't let go, it will be a rough ride again, I have no doubt," Hermione joined the chain from the other Time-Turner to her one, to make it longer and put it around their necks.

"Goodbye, Anne," Hermione said then, knowing she couldn't trust herself to hold it together if she said more, and wanted to save Anne her own dignity. "3.40pm 19 November 2007, Headmistress's Office, Hogwarts, _Movere_."

The lady of Shibden Hall stood with her pocket watch in her hand and raised a hand to them, as a sound of rushing wind, then a _crack_ signalled their departure, leaving her looking at the washstand that was behind where they had stood.

"Eight o'clock," she muttered to herself.

Anne Lister walked back to the little room adjoining her bedroom and brought out her current journal, flicking to the right page. The past week she had written a few entries, with not much happening in them; a few fabricated things to amuse herself and highlights from letters sent and received, trying so hard not to as much as hint at what had happened; lying to her own journal. She looked at one mark in the margin she had allowed herself, and smiled at the memory; the 'L' at the very start of the day did not signify a letter this time, it was a new 'lesbian' experience, and only she would know it. At the same time, it had kept her mind off the whole irritating affair with Vere Hobart and her puffed-up little husband-to-be Donald. She had another letter from Lady Gordon, rambling on about how nice it would have been to travel with her, had the stars been aligned. And then the reply to her, with her false niceties about Vere's betrothed.

She sat there twiddling her pen; she had just met an astonishing woman who had an equally amazing wife - yes wife, _really_ \- and the loss of them made her feel even more angry over Vere, and Mariana.

That decided it, she would keep to her original plans and go to York. If only to dull the pain she felt on parting from Emma...no, _Hermione_. But no one must know that name, and she would always keep it close to her chest, and heart.

She looked at the black diamond she had been given, turning it over in her hand, seeing how it caught the light strangely. She would keep it safe, and maybe one day set it into a ring.

First things first, she would go down, have a bite to eat for breakfast, then pack her portmanteau and get on her way to York.

XXXXXXXXXXX

A few seconds past 3.40pm and everyone in the Headmistress's office at Hogwarts looked nervous, flicking a gaze round to each other. Then a whooshing, cracking sound happened and Ginny, Hermione and Jane appeared in the room. Straight away Ron Weasley walked towards Jane with his wand ready.

"Back off!" Hermione nearly growled, then calmed. "I mean...give us a chance to explain it all. She's not going anywhere, I have her wand and her promise...I..."

"It's all right, Professor," said Jane. "Please handcuff me, it would make everyone feel better."

Ron walked forward and attached magical handcuffs to her, then got her to sit down, Ginny and Hermione also taking a chair.

Professor McGonagall sent for some tea and biscuits and then Ginny and Hermione proceeded to recount all that had happened, the reasons, the issues and the outcomes.

Towards the end of their reporting, Hermione brought out one of her books and looked at the landowner names and it had stayed as Riddle. She felt relief at that.

"I know there will be people versed in the law and regulations," said Hermione. " But I propose that we are lenient on Jane, providing she cooperates with us, and something is done about her parents. And although she took a life, she saved the life of a young boy in doing so, and likely saved several adults in that pub too. But, again, I mention that she wants to fully cooperate and testify against her parents."

Kingsley looked at Jane. "And you _would_ do that?"

Jane nodded. "Yes. I didn't know all those deaths would happen. Even though most were meant to die that year, they should not have been murdered to reach that point. Had I known, I would never...or tried to not to do, as my parents asked. I'm not sure they wanted murders, but they must have known it was a possible outcome."

"You're afraid of them," stated McGonagall. "I understand. You're not the first student to be in that situation. Of course, not exactly the same situation, but some parents can be cruel and selfish. If you truly want to help us, we will do everything in our power to help you."

"But, you will still have to answer to the law," said Harry.

"I know," replied Jane. "I accept that."

"So all of the men died that year?" asked Hermione, thinking. "I wondered...never had a chance to go through it all with you."

Jane nodded. "We knew of three, two of which, Thomas and Tobias, were supposedly natural causes; John Massey probably murdered by body snatchers, and the other my mother couldn't seem to trace properly, disappearing from the records, she said. And Thomas Riddle's wife I have no idea about at all. But being in that area at that time of year she was hopeful I could find out where everyone was, to get the will changed. But no one knew about the boy...it was obviously not transcribed online anywhere."

"There is also the issue that the other students were being set up," said Ginny. "None of them were supposed to go to 1832 with Jane, but 1526 instead. It wasn't a complete bluff but a diversion. Sounds to me like getting group pressure to seem bigger than they were, but Jane was only ever going to go alone to her chosen time line."

"It could be said," Hermione began. "That Filius sabotaging the Time-Turners saved lives and a lot of headaches, metaphorically."

"But Jane's Time-Turner still worked?!" said Filius Flitwick, tiredly.

"Maybe it was always going to," said Ginny. "Fate, destiny, perhaps...just a thought." The room was then quiet a few moments.

"We will investigate it all," said Kingsley. "Well, we'll take it from here. For now, Jane, you will have to come with us, but you'll be somewhere safe and then we'll find your parents and bring them in. I will have to confer with the muggle Home Office to see which of us has jurisdiction and how to proceed."

They all stood up to sort themselves out to leave, when Hermione decided to say what she wanted to. "Might I have a private word with you Kingsley, and Minerva?"

Harry and Ron looked at her, intrigued, but she gave nothing away in her expression. They walked with Jane out of the door and to the nearby cupboard, to Disapparate her back to the Ministry, or to a safe house. For the moment, Hermione was glad it was out of her hands.

Flitwick left with an auror, to go and see his family, and with a nod of his head, said. "You know where to find me. I will, of course, cooperate fully as well."

The remaining four people sat down again.

"What is it?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"I have a proposal...a request...perhaps only a notion," said Hermione.

She told them about her anxiety over 'freelance' wizards and witches and that they posed a threat to everyone. Whether it needed better identifying earlier, as well as a study of some of the spells they cast, Hermione wasn't sure. She even offered herself to give up memories of her duels to aid that part.

"To do that, means I would have to resign my position at Hogwarts," said Hermione. "I don't do that lightly, but I no longer feel I'm giving the input I need to. I'm even questioning my suitability after this. I always want to make a difference and right now, after this event, it feels like a quest I must pursue. However, I would need both of your permission to do so."

Professor McGonagall looked sad. "I hoped I would never hear you say that you wanted to leave here, but I sensed something this year, before all of this happened. You are a fine teacher, one of our best, but you've been worn down. It's not enough for you forever. I always knew that to an extent. I do have one condition on accepting your resignation."

"Of course," said Hermione.

"Other than requiring you to finish the term, if you can, I would like to be able to invite you here from time to time, for talks, or special lessons. There's still so much you can offer to the students, if not actually teaching them from day to day."

Hermione nodded. "I agree. I'd be happy to do that. And I'm happy to stay on till Christmas and fill in a few days if needed the rest of next year."

"I give you permission to follow your line of inquiry," said Kingsley. "In fact I would like to offer you a place back at the Ministry." He saw Hermione grimace and quickly added. "No, not like before, but a position that gives you access to any resources and departments that you need, as and when you need them, but your choice of workplace is entirely yours."

The little tension that Hermione held in her shoulders, dropped. "Thank you. I just feel it is an important area that we know so little about. It has come close to injuring and nearly killing me twice and affected others, including murder, there has to be a way forward."

"I agree, Hermione," said the Minister for Magic. "All I ask is that you keep me informed on your findings and ask for any help, or discuss anything that I might be able to help with."

"I promise to," said Hermione. "I will commit to my teaching, but after Christmas I will start to look into this new project."

Ginny held the Time-Turner, the diamond was still clear and in working order. "What should be do with this?"

"Keep it," said Kingsley.

"Why?" asked Hermione. "You don't think there will be other missions, do you?"

"I can't predict that more than anyone else," Kingsley said in his deep, calming voice. "But we should have a working one at our disposal."

"We have two actually," said Hermione. "But the diamond had blackened, so Jane wouldn't have been able to come back, unless she knew about getting another diamond."

"Keep both, so if we do need action in future, we know we have at least one working instrument, as long as you have spare diamonds, just in case. I can give you some Ministry funds when needed for extra."

"We'll find somewhere to keep them safe," said Ginny.

"I also think if anyone should have guardianship of such a device, it should be the two most qualified users of it," said Kingsley, smiling.

"Okay, we accept," said Hermione, after nodding to Ginny in agreement.

"I have a request now," said Ginny. "Can we go home and sleep for a couple of days?"

Kingsley laughed. "I see no reason why you shouldn't."

"Me neither," said McGonagall. "You might even be fit enough for the match at the weekend for the Harpies."

"I think she needs to sleep off more of that drugged drink she had," said Hermione. "But I wouldn't say no to a couple of days off...if that's okay? I'll be back...say, Thursday."

"Yes, fine. You both deserve some rest."

"A tiny little thing," said Ginny, pinching her thumb and finger together. "Kingsley, any chance you could warn the Harpies that I might be missing training. It would sound so much better coming from you."

"I suppose you have quite a tally of favours we owe," said the Minister, with a crooked smile. "Yes, okay, I will send a message to Gwennog."

"Get off home now," said McGonagall. "Go and relax. I'll see you Thursday, Hermione."

"Thanks Minerva. Oh, and let me know if we're needed at all with Jane. As tired as we are, we know we might still have duties in that regard."

"Yes, we'll keep you informed."

Hermione took Ginny along to her room, checked she didn't need to take anything with her, then took them to the nearest cupboard and Disapparated to their garden at Godric's Hollow.

They paused and looked at the back of their house, it had never felt so welcoming as it did then. Upon entering the house, Ginny got the kettle boiling and saw that the Elves had dropped by with some food and supplies.

"I'm going to take my cuppa up," said Hermione, picking up her mug of tea. She stopped in the hallway and opened the front door, asking Humphrey, her talking phoenix-head door knocker if anyone had called.

"Nope!"

"Nothing odd at all?" Hermione asked.

"Only you asking me that daft question. I've only got one view...and no one can do bugger all out back unless they're 'sposed to be here. But, I'm only a door knocker."

"Thank you," Hermione said, closing the door on any further babble, shaking her head.

"Oh I've soooo missed him," said Ginny sarcastically, walking through with her own mug and going upstairs first. She and Humphrey would never be best friends, but she had to admit she would miss him if he wasn't there.

As they walked upstairs, Hermione said. "To be fair to him, we only left this morning."

"Yeah, then it _would_ sound daft to him."

Both women mightily enjoyed flopping onto their own bed. The beds they had slept in had been comfortable, but there was nothing like your own. After downing mugs of tea they had the luxury of a bath together. Cleaning spells were useful, but having a bath or shower would always feels much better.

Sitting back on their bed, Hermione said, "I could sleep for a week."

"Talking as one still under the cloud of drugged lemonade, I heartily agree," said Ginny.

Hermione cuddled up to Ginny and leaned over and kissed her. "Thank you for going with me. I know it wasn't easy, not any part of it."

"I'd never have let you got alone." Then Ginny gave a little snort. "I don't mean that in a controlling way, I mean I'd always want to help and couldn't bare the thought of you facing all that unknown stuff, without someone you could trust beside you."

"I knew what you meant," said Hermione, then smiled.

"Those people we left – the ones that weren't already dead – they really are, now," Ginny said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it's that mind-boggling thing with time travel again." Hermione paused, deep in thought. "If you think about it, they were all dead this morning before we went and are still dead now."

"We sort of popped up, like a chapter in a book."

"We hope it was only marginal changes, but what effect did we actually have on those people?"

"You definitely had an effect on Anne Lister," said Ginny.

"I'm sorry about all that," said Hermione. "I really don't know what was going on with me."

"You cared about her, before you met her, and you'll always care about her," Ginny gently kissed her partner on the lips. "That whole business...I sort of knew it would happen. I was already prepared, because it was so obvious. I think it's almost a tourist thing...but with famous people of the past."

"Oh bollocks, don't call me a groupie?!"

"No, I wouldn't say groupie. You weren't infatuated. As I remember, you had a very objective opinion of her before you met and that objectivity never changed. You didn't judge, you just absorbed what you saw for yourself."

"I'm sure that's what Howard Carter did on his Egyptian excavations, but I don't remember reading that he slept with Tutankhamun, other than actually sleeping in the area of the excavation."

Ginny laughed. "It was more of a fumble...really."

"Howard Carter and Tutankhamun?"

"Nooo, you and Anne."

"It's kind of funny, we had that short...'connection'...she would call it. But I did actually sleep with her, only really sleep. It's still twisted."

"I don't think so."

"Yeah, well you're part of the twisted bit, encouraging it!"

"I wanted one of us to know," said Ginny. "She won me over, but she obviously favoured you, so why not. You both respected each other..."

"Now it sounds like a study group or even a transaction..."

"Only if you take it that way. I think it was an amazing experience, in a lot of ways, and _I_ wasn't even the one...connected!"

"It was so difficult knowing things and having to hide it. I hoped I was smoothing the path a little, by lowering her expectations on love, but I doubt it will help," said Hermione.

"I don't think anything will help, from the little I read," said Ginny. "The problem isn't all Ann Walker, it's about Anne herself. Maybe it's experience that's made her that way, but even when she lets someone in, there's a kind of fence around her. I'm not sure anyone can truly get beyond that fence, and when they do, she almost talks herself out of it."

"I'm glad you never talked yourself out of being with me," said Hermione.

"Oh I did!" Ginny said, amused. "Remember, I ran from you in my dreams, and had all those internal debates. I'm glad I had the nerve to not run in real life. " Hermione kissed Ginny's cheek, then lay close beside her. Ginny draped her arm over her wife. "I'm going to have to sleep now. It must be drug o'clock!"

"I could do with a nap too," Hermione agreed.

They slept for a couple of hours, then both got up and had some supper, before retiring to bed again.

"Tomorrow is a new day," said Hermione.

XXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, after breakfast, Hermione went into her study and brought out the books she had held in her beaded bag, finding a place for them next to other 19th century reference books which she hadn't taken. As she sat at the desk her barn owl, Hugo, fluttered in with a letter attached to his leg. It was from Harry, he wanted both herself and Ginny in at the Ministry to sign statements.

"Blurrghh!" said Ginny, sticking her tongue. "Does that mean we have to be adults again?"

"Seems so," said Hermione. "Let's pop in later this morning and see what's happening, or at least get some of our part done, rather than drag it out an extra day or so."

At the Ministry Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt collected their statements of all that had happened and got them to sign them.

"Any luck with Jane's parents?" Hermione asked.

"We picked them up last night," the Minister for Magic replied. "It seems to have taken them by surprise."

"Had they arranged a day for Jane to return?"

"They had the sense to say the same day for return, so when Ron went to their door last night, they were not expecting him, and he gestured for back-up and arrested them."

"So they have no magic?" asked Ginny. "They're definitely squibs?"

"That's the thing," said Kingsley. "The mother has the faintest amount."

"So not a total squib," the redhead surmised.

"That's suggesting Massey blood, so far then," said Hermione. "I wonder...has a search been done of their property?"

"It was being carried out early this morning," Kingsley nodded to Harry to confirm.

"Yeah, I've left a team working on cataloguing everything we bagged there and brought here," Harry said.

"Did you find a family tree? Or something like family history research?" Hermione asked.

"Not that I know of," said Harry. "We went for books, computers, devices and things like that."

"In our conversations in 1832, Jane said she her mother had done research on her family tree, but she hadn't seen much of it, or wasn't _allowed_ to see it. If we've shown that, so far the only freelance magical people are from the Massey line, that would have to be one of my first lines of inquiry into that whole subject."

"In that case," said the Minister. "You have my permission to go to the evidence rooms and see if you can find anything. If not, Harry can take you to their house and see if it was missed there."

Hermione looked to Ginny. "Sorry. If you don't want to be involved further, I'd understand if you want to go back home and catch up on some rest."

"Ut uh! I don't go into something like this and bow out to have a nap!"

"I know, but I'll always ask," Hermione squeezed her wife's hand.

Harry led them a few floors lower to a corridor, with a series of rooms. Some had the doors open, showing shelf upon shelf of files and people sorting through those files. Halfway along the corridor, Harry led them into a room which was surprisingly large and several people were checking numbers on bagged items and writing up notes.

On talking to a dark haired witch at one of the tables, she pointed to the other side of the room.

"She says they haven't seen any files in paper form, but we've taken two laptops," Harry explained.

"Could be on a file," agreed Hermione.

"To be honest," said Harry. "I think it's only you or I that stand a chance of getting the most off a laptop. They don't seem to react to much magic, it's down to computer skills, or finger-punching keys and hoping for the best."

Hermione sat a table and opened the first laptop, which booted up fairly quickly. Immediately she checked the files in 'documents' but found nothing. "Okay, I doubted it would be there, but you never know if things get left in plain sight."

The brunette clicked around various computer folders, but so far hadn't found anything that could be a file of documents with the details she was searching for. In progressing from the easy way to find files, to the harder ways, Hermione was almost ready to give up. She opened up the second laptop and did the same searches, but was getting more and more disheartened that she might have to go fiddling around through their remaining possessions at their house.

The second laptop was slightly older and as such showed a less simplified ranges of files in all areas. Hermione ended up in the depths of the laptop's registry and as she looked she came across the word 'GEDCOM' and files named in numbers and letters. Initially she thought nothing of it, but saw it several times. Hovering her cursor over them, showed that the files had been modified a lot, from months apart, to weeks, with the latest one modified as late as 2 November.

"GEDCOM...," Hermione said aloud. "What file is that? I feel I should know it?"

"Open it and find out," said Ginny.

"Is that okay?" Hermione asked Harry. "If it crashes the laptop..."

"We'll take it to a muggle crime lab expert, if it does," said Harry.

"Right," said Hermione, as she hovered the cursor over the latest file. Double clicking didn't seem to do anything for a moment or two, and then the older laptop screen when black. "Shit, I knew it would crash."

"No, look!" said Ginny, pointing to a green loading line at the bottom of the screen.

After a few more moments the screen flickered again and a program opened ' Family Tree Maker version 16'.

There were several subheadings at one side of the screen and across the top. Hermione clicked on one for an ascending tree and after a few moments a tree loaded. She zoomed in and nodded her head. "Massey. There's Jane and her parents."

She followed the line to Jane's great grandparents whom Ginny and herself had met in 1943; John Massey's death date was left blank a. "They really don't know what happened to him, then."

"I think only Voldemort would have known that," said Hermione.

"My guess is, I might have met him in that cave where the locket was," said Harry. "Inferi were everywhere. As he hasn't shown up, not even within their family, he has to be dead and Voldemort liked to make the _best_ use of people, when he could."

"In a lot of ways I hope you're right," Ginny said.

Hermione could see that the Howards had concentrated on one line with only the Massey line covered properly and not so much about other branches or even marriages until they went back further, meaning definite areas of research for her later. She scrolled back another generation of names in list form and clicked back and forth from the list to the tree, seeing names that didn't mean anything, then she stopped. "There are no more Masseys further back than 1770."

"No more research, or one of those brick walls I hear people reach with family trees?" asked Harry.

"It does go back, but the name isn't Massey." Hermione scrolled up another generation and zoomed in slightly. "It's Gaunt."

"Gaunt?" asked Ginny, looking closer at the screen. "Wait...Massey marries into Gaunt or...?"

"Masseys _are_ Gaunts," said Hermione. "It just sort of jumps with no reason for the name changing...or none I can..."

"Can you click on that and expand a profile, if it exists?" pointed Harry to one of the names.

A small profile did appear and it showed that the death of that man was the result of hanging, for committing murder.

"So, a Gaunt is executed for murder. And by the next generation on that line, it looks like they just became Massey." Hermione had followed the line forwards again.

"Makes sense to put distance from the name, and start fresh," said Harry.

"So why didn't the other Gaunts change their name too?" wondered Ginny.

"Oh, here we go," said Hermione, with a touch of almost amusement. "We have Gaunts marrying Masseys, which means it's Gaunts marrying Gaunts."

"They're not all from the same place," Ginny observed. "Leeds, Halifax, Bradford, Barnsley..."

"But they're all within walking distance to someone from that era, when walking twenty miles in a day was not completely unheard of in some instances." Hermione rubbed at her eyes. "And if we go back, they all then descend from brothers and sisters, that are also uncle and aunts. It's only when we get to the later 1700s that a few outsiders marry in."

"I wonder if that's why the Masseys and Gaunts always seem to be helping each other out, even when they're unaware they're doing it?" said Ginny.

"Which means that the boy probably never was in danger. Although he doesn't appear anywhere on this tree, for some reason; I don't think Massey could have killed him any better than you or I," explained Hermione. "I bet they've had disputes and the normal dysfunctional family stuff, but ultimately they're always thrown together. And then the Riddles get thrown in too, but they don't seem to be magical at all, not even squibs."

"So how does one branch keep producing rogues?" asked her partner.

"I'm not sure yet, but I would say the inbreeding could be a clue. Like having some of the things that make a person magical, but not all of the markers, so they miss however it is the Ministry keeps tabs on them. Throw in the Massey name as non connected and it becomes easier to stay hidden. Except Jane...but as she's very talented and strong in magic, she probably had a larger marker that was recognized by the system."

"Would there be a way...perhaps similar to DNA to find _actual_ markers for the rogues?" asked Harry.

"Again, I don't know," said Hermione. "That's the kind of thing I want to research. I think anything similar to DNA would probably show several anomalies and mutations because...well..."

"They didn't get out of the village much!" Ginny finished for her.

"Yes," her wife said, smiling.

Kingsley walked in to see if they had found anything and motioned for them to continue their discussion.

"Today, as things stand," began Harry. "Do you think that squibs may not be squibs? Could they learn to tap into things?"

"For now I would count out nothing," said Hermione, seriously. "We've observed with the Masseys that they're quite strong in magic, or strong in the things they decide to use it for. But, Morten Gaunt was not just untrained only minimal, he was quite weak in a lot of areas. He couldn't Apparate, but he could sense magic being used, just not from where or what it was and his wife was even weaker. It probably accounts for several Gaunts being expelled from Hogwarts or other training, and some just missing the net."

"We know that they became stronger in magic, and a bit more insane," said Harry.

"I wonder if the Gaunts and Masseys have stronger magic the less sanity they have?" said Ginny.

"Explain that theory, if you can?" asked Kingsley.

"Morfin Gaunt was crazy, and even if the time we saw him in 1943 included some kind of dementia, he and his sister were seen to be insane or near to it, but both were strong enough in magic to deceive people and kill people. When we spoke to Morten Gaunt in 1832, he seemed a bit of a cantankerous old bugger – excuse my French! - but I think that was a bit of an act, because when things got serious, he seemed fairly normal and level-headed, just incredibly worried for the boy, even though it wasn't his."

"I'd agree completely with that," said Hermione. "I think they married just enough outside blood to have kept the family going. Morten and his wife were both Gaunts, with so many babies that died after weeks or a few months, so introducing Riddle was the option that worked and we may never know if they planned it, or a nasty incident had a better ending for the the wife than a sexual assault would normally. However, with that amount of inbreeding, each generation was still a bit of Russian Roulette as to which behaviour or magical strength the offspring would have."

"Half of me wants to say 'brilliant work everyone'," said Kingsley. "The half wants me to wake up and pretend I haven't heard any of it." The others looked at him with quizzical expressions. "This opens a can of worms...or a can of Blast-Ended Skrewts. If I was Fudge I'd pretend I hadn't heard any of that, but I'm not."

"How should we proceed, then?" asked Harry, already guessing most of the answer.

"Firstly keep this particular information separate from the investigation into the Howards. The contents of the family tree does not need to be disclosed, only that Mrs. Howard researched the tree, for dates and places of their ancestors, to the time that appeared to be an opening, to change their fortunes. Ideally I'd like some work to be done on the theories you have had already."

Ginny looked tired again and a little worried, as she glanced at Hermione, knowing who he would want involved. "Hermione is the best person to be selected for it," she said.

"Yes," Kingsley answered, seeing both the women's faces, he added. "But...it's not going to be all on Hermione. I will still honour Minerva's need for a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor until Christmas, but I want to have more than just Hermione working on this."

"Perhaps you ought to let her pick, " said Ginny. "This sort of work isn't great if you don't know your colleagues well and all that."

"I don't think it needs to be an emergency," said Hermione. "I hope not, anyway. Think of how few people we've met that could be investigated for this kind of thing. So far we only have a small pocket of intermarried families. There might be others, but unless there are a glut of crimes breaking out, then I think it's safe to take a little time and I think various methods will be needed."

"Exactly my thinking, but I'm sure you'll be fine with my choices, providing you do agree," said Kingsley. "The first person I want working on this, until Hermione can give more time, is Fleur Weasley. She has experience in the Department of Mysteries and a knack for investigating unusual things and cases with any patterns to them."

"She would be at the top of my list," said Hermione, nodding.

"I would leave the other choices up to you both, as to whom you need and when," said Kingsley. "Firstly, though we need to sort out this case against the Howards."

"We'll help in any way that's needed," said Ginny, a little tiredly.

"We've got your statements, so unless something else develops, we probably won't need you until nearer the court case," said the Minister.

"And we're a lot faster than muggle courts," said Harry. "I reckon it will be before Christmas."

"Are the Howards being kept at Azkaban?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, in the better quarters, until conviction, or release," replied Kingsley.

"Release?" said Ginny. "Surely not?"

"No, I wouldn't think so either. When we reach that far, in normal circumstances, we might have to deliver them into a muggle situation, but I doubt that, because of the connection to rogue wizards in the same family line in recent generations. It should be left to us. And of course, it has to be decided if it was just the mother, or also the father, pushing for Jane to do these things."

"Going back to Hogwarts might also be a help to this whole thing about squibs," said Hermione. "I'm wondering if I can get Filch to provide a baseline for us. Find out if he does have some very weak magic and doesn't know it. Despite how he's acted in the past, I'm sure Minerva can help to persuade him to assist."

"Let's hope he hasn't got Gaunt or Massey ancestry," said Harry drily.

"If it's called 'Ministry business' I'm sure he'll be willing to help," said Kingsley. "Maybe with a little guarantee of a commendation."

"Or we could just buy him a crate of cat food for Mrs. Norris," said Ginny.

"I know lots of people would like to test _her,_" said Kingsley. "She has to be at least twenty-five by now!"

"Perhaps, I will...just for the fun of it," said Hermione, amused.

Hermione and Ginny left the Ministry a little while later and went back to their cottage in Godric's Hollow. Once inside, the brunette embraced her wife and held onto her, resting her chin on the red head's shoulder.

"I never intend for this job to get too deep," said Hermione. "What would be the point of me having left before, and leaving Hogwarts to go back to the grind. I think, after the initial stuff that Fleur and me set out, that it should be pretty methodical and flexible."

"As deep as it sounds, I think that too and with Fleur you're not going to push each other to exhaustion. I think it will work."

"I hope so," said Hermione. "And if it doesn't..." she tailed off.

"What?" Ginny pulled back in their embrace to look her wife in the eyes.

"Perhaps I won't work at all...perhaps write a book...but...I don't...," she stopped again.

"Tell me what's on your mind."

"I can't not _do _something," said Hermione. "But perhaps I might find a time when I want to do much less...just tag around with you for a while."

Ginny smiled. "I'd be happy for you to do that. Only if and when you wanted to do that, though. I could see you writing some great books...either text books for students or something else interesting from any number of subjects."

"Okay, but for now, I go back to Hogwarts...with a few detours for this blasted Howards case, then I work more with Fleur and see where we go."

"Gods, I love you," said Ginny, leaning in to kiss Hermione, wrapping her arms around her, the brunette not quick enough to reply and only mumble into their kiss.

A few minutes later Hermione sighed. "It's made me wonder about about my parents, and not for the first time."

"Squib or just muggle?" replied Ginny.

"It's always made me wonder. I can't feel anything when I'm around them, so I think they are truly non-magical in whichever way it turns out. Perhaps it skipped a generation and one of my grandparents had a little magic?"

"Living in the magical world, as I always have," said Ginny. "...we always had discussions about that kind of subject and gossip and stuff. We always knew about magic missing generations. It wasn't talked about out loud, because squibs can be very sensitive, but it was always there."

"It doesn't make my parents sinister," said Hermione. "I might test their DNA out of interest though, if we ever get a database big enough to find anything that points to magic."

"All for the future," the redhead said.

**A/N: On the Sunday they left Shibden Hall, Anne did indeed pack her 'portmanteau' to go to York. Another reason for picking that week, as nothing much happens and then she goes off visiting. It helped to pace the story too, knowing I only had those days to play with. Plus, I've always liked claustrophobic stories that race along without too much thumb-twiddling. :)**

**The name changing mystery on the family trees is something I've come across in family history research a lot. From the things I've looked at, it's usually someone running from debts or a situation(rather than magical murders!) and starting somewhere fresh with a new name, unofficially changed. A branch of my family moved 200 miles from their usual area and used a different, very ordinary surname for thirty years and some of their kids used the new name, however when they died they went back to the proper original name. Confusing but fascinating. A couple of mystery lines I thought I had lost in my family appeared again thanks to DNA and getting their story of name changes to fill in the blanks. AND anyone thinking they don't have mysteries, illegitimate kids or inbreeding in their family is kidding themselves, everyone has an incidence of it somewhere, and often multiple times. :)**


	15. Chapter 15 Mist

**A/N: This is more of a linking chapter.**

Chapter Fifteen - "Mist"

Less than one month later in the Ministry courtroom, with the last case before Christmas...

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, returned to the courtroom with his senior colleagues, having conferred with a jury. He sat down, looking tired and stern, as the parents of Jane Howard were brought back into the courtroom, and taken to one bench, and Jane brought in afterwards and taken to another bench on the other side of the room. It had taken four hours for the court to reconvene for the verdict.

Kingsley, banged his wooden gavel to silence the whispers and rustling of papers. "This case has been unique, tiring, disturbing and intense for all involved. We have made sure that all evidence has been looked at properly and with objective eyes and minds. No decision is ever made lightly in the search for truth and justice..."

"I wish he'd just get on with it," whispered Ginny.

Hermione and Ginny were present for the final day of the trial and to hear the sentencing, having given evidence themselves over the past couple of days. The brunette got hold of her wife's hand and held it. "Nearly over," she whispered back.

"First we come to the involvement and guilt of Mr. Kenneth Howard," Kingsley spoke, with the named accused standing. "Of planning the crime we find you: not guilty."

The court room hummed into life again, but the white-faced accused did not look relieved. Kinglsey continued. "Of collaborating in the crime, hiding the truth, assisting in supporting the crime we find you: guilty." The Minister waited for the rustling to die down again. "However, as those crimes are more recognized in a non magical court, you will we passed over to the Home Office; you are sentenced to six months in prison followed by a two-year suspended sentence. You will also not be able to contact your daughter, Miss Jane Howard, nor seek her presence, unless arranged and accompanied by an official and only with her permission. To break this restraining order will result in a lengthened sentence or returning to custody, if free at the time. Have you anything to say?"

Mr. Howard looked to his daughter across the room. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. Perhaps one day you might forgive me?"

Jane looked away from him and down at her hands in her lap; she looked a little emotional, but remained in control, only breathing a little faster.

Kingsley signalled to a witch at the court doors, and upon opening them a couple of muggle prison officers and an official in a suit walked to Mr. Howard and with handcuffs secured, walked him out of the court room.

Once more the Minister's gavel was banged for silence. "Moving to the case of Mrs. Michelle Howard," he said, looking up as the accused stood. "We find you: guilty on all accounts. Of planning, coercing, threatening, and creating the crimes, whereby murder was committed, with a view to fraud. Perhaps even more unforgivable is in the conduct you have shown towards your daughter and to more than one of her professors. As the crime is within the interest of the magical community, committed using magic, even if not performed by yourself, it is the responsibility of this court to sentence you. Your initial sentence will be fifteen years in Azkaban, upon completion of which you will be assessed as to your suitability and safety to be released into any community, or if your sentence shall be continued. You will also be prohibited from contacting your daughter unless she permits it and confers with an official, etc, etc."

Hermione looked to Jane who was a few rows away on their side of the courtroom and she was sure she saw her shoulders drop with relief, or released a sigh.

"Have you anything to say?" Kinglsey asked Mrs. Howard.

"I've been framed. I have been set up by one of your filthy lot...all of your filthy lot...and I will prove it...you wait and see and then we'll see who looks so smug."

"Thank you," said Kingsley, gesturing to a pair of Azkaban officers to use magical handcuffs and take her away, the defendant now looking decidedly ragged.

"I can't see how she'll ever be released," said Ginny.

"If she acts like that, me neither," replied Hermione.

The gavel hit the wooden block again. "And finally we come to Miss Jane Howard,"

Jane stood, resting her hands on the wooden stand in front of her, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"With knowledge, you carried out the crime planned by Michelle Howard, you were involved with planning and were present at all crimes carried out in the attempt for that scheme to be completed. However, you too were a victim or threats and pressure; you did not cast any of the prohibited spells and upon finding the situation out of your control, you assisted our two operatives to conclude your presence in 1832 in the most positive way that could be done. You also saved the lives of many people with your actions, even though that resulted in your taking the life of a dangerous opponent to achieve that safety. We take into consideration your character, as one of Hogwarts finest students, and the exemplary reports given from your professors and the two women sent to bring you back. But we must not forget that, you chose to take part in this plan, initially, in a set of very unwise choices, being of near full age..."

"I don't think it's going to be as lenient as we hoped," said Hermione.

"Well, it was a bloody stupid thing to do," said Ginny.

"...we also have a responsibility to show that the crime must be punished. We sentence you to ten months in prison at Azkaban, but with provision for you to continue your studies. Then a suspended sentence of three years, to be conducted with close supervision from the Ministry, if and only if you submit to a training programme."

"Oh that's clever," said Hermione. "He's basically telling her to stay good, train as an auror, or you'll be back inside. She gets punished but also gets to prove herself in the job she always wanted."

"Will people trust her?" Ginny asked.

"With time, I think they will...providing she _has_ been honest with everyone and isn't thinking of breaking out her mother and doing something ridiculous. Auror training should get to the bottom of things fairly quickly if she's played us."

"Nah, she looked relieved that she wouldn't have to see her mother again."

"...do you have anything to say?" Kingsley asked Jane.

"Thank you," said Jane. "I want to thank Professor Granger and her wife for helping me, and bringing me home. I also hope to prove how grateful I am for the chance I am being given, after my initial sentence. I hope to never let anyone down again, and certainly not in this way." She bobbed her head to Ginny and Hermione, then calmly allowed her wrists to be magically handcuffed and taken from the court by an Azkaban official.

That evening when the two witches were finally able to get home to Godric's Hollow, Hermione flopped onto their bed. "It's finally over," she said.

"That was a stressful couple of weeks," said Ginny.

"I think the outcome was the best it could be. At least she has legal separation from her awful parents."

"I think she might eventually see her dad again."

"Perhaps, but she'll have advice and all the help she could want to make that decision, when and if she wants to," said Hermione.

XXXXXXXXXX

Two months later February 2008...

"Dead end, literally," said Hermione, as she scanned her laptop screen.

"Unless illegitimate," said Fleur.

"Yeah, but as far as we can tell that line goes nowhere." Hermione looked at the clock in the room. Five o'clock. "We might as well leave it for today."

Fleur stretched, pushing back from her desk. "Do you want to stay for dinner? We can message Ginny to come along too?"

"If you're sure?" said Hermione.

"I won't do much, I'll send for some take away," said Fleur.

For the past two months, Hermione and Fleur had been working together, both at the Ministry but more regularly at Shell Cottage - Bill and Fleur's home - with the use of the internet. It worked very well, so that Fleur was often around for her young daughter Victoire, and both she and Hermione got to work in a more relaxed environment, as well as acquiring the autonomy which helped to keep their findings more confidential.

They had come to the conclusion, fairly early on, that the 'rogue' element in this hidden band of otherwise squibs and muggles - but whom had magical power in varying degrees - all were linked to the Gaunt family and by extension the Masseys. A reluctant Filch had helped them with some tests, in trying to gauge if he could in fact have magic; they also took a blood sample. Sadly, for the school caretaker, he was still definitely a squib with no trace of magic, but it was useful in producing a reliable source for helping their database.

In conjunction with a forensic department of a university, they set up some DNA tests, also collecting a blood sample from Jane, given enthusiastically and from her mother which was given much less enthusiastically. Their forensic scientist friends couldn't discover any particular element, and not without Hermione and Fleur having to be more open about the project they were working on, but they began to build a small database. Using readings that spoke to ethnic origins and little pointers the scientists could explain with DNA coding, with eye and hair colour being a basic element. They hoped, one day, that it could give them more answers.

Most of the time Fleur and Hermione were working like genealogists, tracking down names, parish records, census returns, apprenticeships, land grants and a lot of the time they could work on the computer. They still often went to churches or records offices to get more information that wasn't available online, or looked at sensitive records normally hidden, for some crimes, but steadily they had been building a huge family tree.

They knew that like the mythical hydra, finding one head, actually meant there was probably another three lurking somewhere. Their goal was to find as many descendants as possible, and hopefully find out if the living ones were at all magical. So far they hadn't found any more living descendants, but they had only worked through a quarter of the possible tree they anticipated.

Ginny arrived not long after Hermione called her, preferring to use her mobile phone instead of sending a more dramatic patronus, or even Disapparating, to ask her over. Another hour's time and Fleur, Bill - home from the Ministry - Ginny, Hermione and Victoire were seated in the living room of Shell Cottage eating pizza, fries and other unhealthy goodness.

"Any exciting finds, today?" asked Ginny.

"A dead end," said Fleur.

"Literally?"

"Both dead, and no offspring," said Hermione. "As far as we can tell."

"That's good, isn't it?" said Ginny

"Yes." answered her wife.

"Although," said Fleur. "We'd be lying if we said we didn't want to find any living descendants...you know, just to see..."

"If they're a potential psycho, rogue, wand-wielder?" Bill finished for her, with a laugh.

"What if they don't know their ancestry?" asked Ginny. "That would be a shock!"

"I suppose that's the trouble with the unknown possible illegitimate issues, or even adoptions at some point," offered Hermione.

"Old adoptions would be hard to find too,"said Fleur nodding.

"Yeah, because a hundred years ago or more, it wasn't uncommon for a kid to live with someone that took them on and is therefore adopted but not through an agency...and sometimes even agencies could be a bit dodgy."

"I have a little news today," said Bill. "About Jane, but no one is supposed to know yet."

"Oh, she hasn't done something bad, has she?" asked Ginny, imagining that perhaps they _had_ been a bad judge of her character after all.

"No, quite the opposite," Bill replied. "Her ten-month sentence should have seen her stay at Azkaban until October, but I've heard that she's been particularly good and kept her studies going very well, with the help she was given. As long as nothing happens between now and then, the plan is to release her in August, stay with an auror to acclimatize for a month and then fast-track her into auror training in September, with a new intake."

"It's probably the best thing that can happen," said Hermione. "I hope it works out for her."

"What happens if she isn't auror material?" asked Fleur.

"She'll still be involved at the Ministry," replied Bill. "They don't want her out of their sight for the next few years."

"If she turns out not to be good for auror training there are so many departments she could work for, she's bright enough, providing she makes no more bad choices," said Hermione.

Later that night, back at Godric's Hollow Hermione and Ginny were getting their breath back from making love, both tired and sated.

"Two months of full work on this project," said Ginny. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, laying her head on Ginny's chest. "It's investigating things, but unlike law enforcement it's the real mind boggling stuff. Proper detective work, in some ways. Plus a bit of science and working with Fleur is so easy."

Ginny kissed the top of her wife's head. "I'm pleased. I really am."

"At the end of each day we can see what we've achieved, be it a new name in the tree, a new connection, some piece of information, it's never knowing what we might find next. And hopefully it will make a difference later."

"What happens when you find a living descendant and they also be shown to have a little magic?"

"I'm not sure on the protocol. We can't arrest them, because they may have no clue about it. They might even use magic without knowing. Say, they're about to fall off a bike, swerve, but instead of falling off, the bike steadies and they carry on. Perhaps their will power is actually using magic."

"They can't really go to Hogwarts if they're older than their twenties, though, can they?" Ginny wondered.

"No. We haven't found any yet, but I assume we would have to bring the person to the Ministry or to meet with Kingsley and go from there. Maybe the Ministry could set up a training programme, so that they are properly registered."

"Aurors would be a wise choice for training. Someone like Harry would be perfect," said Ginny.

"That could work," said Hermione. "I'm not sure we truly expect to find any living descendants beyond Jane and her mother. The inbreeding of that whole family means they didn't have that many children survive infancy. A long list of only children."

"I heard someone say that if everyone traced their family back far enough, we'd all be related."

"I've heard that too. I don't know how far back that would have to be, but even so, this family seems to be pretty insular."

They were quiet for a time, then Hermione asked a question she had been wondering about for a couple of months. "Do you still like quidditch?"

"Yeah, I'll always like it."

"Do you still _love_ it?"

The pause before the answer spoke volumes. "After all these years it gets a bit tedious sometimes. The training and routines."

"I know you've felt differently about it for a couple of months," said Hermione, lifting her head and settling with herself on the pillow next to Ginny. "I didn't want to ask, though. I wanted you to be ready to tell me."

"I don't know what I want to do," Ginny sighed. "I wondered about moving teams, but I don't think I could start somewhere new, nor play against the Harpies."

"Do you want to just stop playing? Do something else?"

"I've thought about it. I thought I might ask to have a sabbatical, to get away from the game a little while and see if I wanted to come back."

"I'm sure they'd let you," said Hermione.

"Yeah, perhaps I'll talk to Gwennog and the management next week."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A month later, and the day found Hermione, Fleur and Ginny standing in Little Hangleton churchyard.

"It hasn't changed much," said Ginny, looking up at the small bell tower, then at the spattering of gravestones. "Not many new ones, not that I can see."

Hermione had gone to the nearest house to fetch a key for the church, and heard a satisfying grind then click, as the old large iron key unlocked the old wooden door.

They walked into the church and their noses were assaulted with the familiar church smells, or damp stone and dust. They walked up to the chancel, where Hermione could see part of a named slab under a rug that piqued her interest. She lifted back the rug to read the full inscription underneath.

It was an epitaph for Tobias Riddle and at the bottom of the stone was added a small inscription for Terrence, both death dates in 1832.

"I didn't expect that!" said Hermione. She brought out a digital camera and took several photos of the inscription. "I thought they were being buried in the churchyard outside? I was looking for possible older names."

"Hmm, it makes sense," said Ginny. "When I did my fake bit of praying, then got accosted by that vicar, he said it was a good thing I hadn't visited on the Sunday because of the funerals. Makes sense if they opened up the vault, or crypt, or whatever it is under there, because I wouldn't have access to have sat here."

Hermione rolled back the rug further, with Fleur's help, and began reading the other stone inscriptions. Ginny walked to the side door she had used before and tried the latch. It wasn't locked, so she went inside. It looked like several things were being stored there, including Bibles and prayer books in dusty piles. She went to a desk and smiled to see the three parish register books she had taken in 1832. She picked them up and took them out to the main area, sitting in a choir pew to open one.

Ginny flicked the pages of the burial register, the older pages covered with the stains of foxing, so common on old papers and books. She went to the 1832 pages for June; they were easy to find, being a small village and seeming to have less events recorded as the years passed. Sure enough there was an entry for Tobias Riddle and 'his nephew' Terrence. Buried 'in the new vault' in the chancel floor. There was an ink mark that looked like a star, and at the bottom of the page another accompanied in very small writing an entry for 'Thomas Riddle' buried near the boundary of the churchyard, 'an unsound, troubled mind, ending his own life' buried 'with prayers and blessings at nightfall' witnessed by the vicar and a church warden.

"They buried him away from prying eyes, or so it would seem. So it wasn't really three funerals, it was two plus a half of one later, when no one was looking," said Ginny, showing Hermione and Fleur, they having rolled back the rug and come over to her.

"I'm sure the village knew about it," said Hermione. "Things like that don't get kept secret for long."

"No other Riddles or Gaunts appear to have been buried in that vault." Fleur said, pointing over her shoulder.

"Which means the next generations were buried outside," Hermione said. "On or around where Harry was taken all those years ago, to witness the rebirth of the evil git."

Hermione took the burial register and flicked to the years that they knew Voldemort's father and grandfather had been buried.

"I wonder when he married? The kid?" Ginny opened the marriage register. "If he even stayed around here, or married here. He obviously must have done to have Voldemort as a descendant."

They remembered that he was born in 1826, and so they checked marriages from 1842 onwards, from the age of sixteen. They found nothing, not even checking later, for a marriage in older age, brought any marriage to light.

"We haven't looked in detail at his line, because it's so known, we'd only be dotting the i's and crossing the t's," said Hermione. "But we're sure to find out soon. Now we have a few more details we can perhaps start on that line next."

"Look to see if you can find Marvelo," said Ginny.

Flicking pages to possible death dates, Hermione looked at several years. She could find no sign of Thomas Marvelo Riddle Gaunt in any variation of names. "Perhaps he moved out and it was his descendants that came back? After all Voldemort travelled in Europe a lot, perhaps there were family connections over there."

"I imagine he was financially secure, gaining all the inheritance," said Fleur. "He might well have gone overseas."

"Oh, that answers things," said Hermione. On the very next page to the one they had looked at, in 1832, she had found an entry for John Massey. "And it notes that he was 'unlawfully killed by unknown persons on the road to Leeds.'"

"So, Morten Gaunt managed the cover up," said Ginny, nodding in appreciation. "Is there mention of the wife?"

The brunette flicked through a few more pages, and on reaching 1854, found an entry. "Elizabeth Massey, looks like she was interred into the same grave, therefore a double, probably on top of each other to save money on plots."

"Do you have a grave reference?" asked Ginny

"B14."

"Is there a plan in the front?"

Hermione flicked to the front of the register and found a loose piece of paper, that was more like parchment. She carefully unfolded it and saw a basic grid overlaying a plan of the churchyard labelled in different hands over the years. "B14...B14...hmm...looks like it's about three graves in from the path to the road, on the right. Looks like a large family plot next to it, as they've put the name Hammond over the area with lines...very few others except the large Riddle one, that Harry knew, have that type of labelling."

"We might as well, go and look," said Fleur.

They left the church and walked onto the path, looking at gravestones on the right hand side.

"Here's a Hammond...grave," said Ginny, looking over a large stone arrangement. "I say grave...more like a tomb...no, a mini mausoleum."

"I don't remember anyone talking about a Hammond family any time we've been here," said Hermione, looking at the dates, which had various names around kerbing and on a front panel of a stone tomb. "Last date here is 1808. So they must have died out, or the rest moved away."

They walked onto the grass and passed the impressive Hammond family tomb and next to it was nothing, only plain tufty grass. Hermione walked along the length of what would be the grave cut and around the area of it.

"I can definitely feel a bit of difference in the lumpiness of the ground. I'd say there's definitely a grave here."

"Obviously no money for a gravestone," said Fleur.

"Which is good news," said Ginny, walking a couple of steps away. "It means that Jane definitely didn't change their fortunes...and...oh..."

"What?" asked Fleur.

"We knew these ones," Ginny said pointing to a weathered, small squat gravestone, with a little lichen over the upper edges. The lettering was still very readable, though.

"So this is the landlady we knew," said Hermione, crouching by the stone to read it. "Ada Massey. Died 1997. Shit!"

"That feels way more creepy than it should," said Ginny, confused. "I know she probably didn't have much to do with her husband's activities, or appeared not to, but that's so close to all the other things going on at that time, that final few months leading to the final battle."

"I'll give you my take on things; a possible result," said Fleur "She died in 1997, leaving nothing much for Jane's family to inherit. You two go time travelling in 1998, and along the way Jane's mother hears glimpses of things that connect you to them. She works out that you might have killed her grandfather, or know what happened to him, but her mind actually wonders about the small changes you can do back in time, that could have big consequences...add in a pinch of salty obsession and maybe a dash of spicy insanity, and you have what happened here to get to 1832."

"Sounds pretty accurate to me," said Hermione, Ginny nodding in agreement.

Ginny was crouched near the stone, pushing down moss and long grass growing up the bottom of it. "It's probably just a verse or something." A little more cleaning with her fingers to move some of the small moss attached to the engraved letters. "Ah...Also in memory of John Massey, husband of the above. Lost to us, but never forgotten."

"I'll never bloody forget him," Hermione blurted out.

Her wife gave a wry smile, stood up and went to her, giving her a little hug. Fleur walked to the side looking for more graves.

"It doesn't look like there are more Masseys here, unless they're in the burial register...I know that the burial plans don't always keep up to date, from what we've seen," their sister-in-law said.

"Which means we might have to come back again," said Hermione, not entirely thrilled at the prospect.

"Not necessarily," said Fleur. "Have you got a large empty notebook or pad of paper?"

"Always have some in my beaded bag," said Hermione, then it dawned on her. "We'll copy the registers."

"Exactly," said a smiling Fleur. "Look, you two wait here and I'll go do that, then lock up and we can go again."

Hermione handed over two notebooks to Fleur, before the women decided to walk over to the unavoidable tomb of the Riddles. It was hard to miss it, despite it being set well back from the sight of the road, in a sparse area of the graveyard; it was large and made a definite statement.

"I know it's a grave, but it's so macabre," said Hermione, looking up at the image of the grim reaper.

"Has that gothic horror feel," said Ginny.

"I can't imagine what Harry went through that night."

The brunette walked around to the side of the tomb and then backed away slightly, taking in the size of the piece and the angles of the stone carving. As she was looking, she suddenly felt her ankle wobble and saw the horizon change radically, as she landed on her backside on the grass.

"You all right?" Ginny, went to her wife.

"Must have put my foot in a rabbit scrape, or..." Hermione stopped, as she had put her hand to the side to push up from the ground, her hand touched something solid. Something covered in spongy moss.

Something made her rub at the moss, definitely feeling an angled slab of stone. As the moss came away she could feel and see engraved letters. Ginny was at her side helping to clear the furry green vegetation. They couldn't see the dates clearly but the saw the names Morten and Marcella Gaunt. Hermione looked around the space where she had fallen and felt a low kerb of stone surrounding an inner square of grass, but sunken almost below the ground.

"Well, they lived and died here, at least," said Ginny.

"I still wonder where their son ended up?"

"There are some magical burial grounds," the redhead replied.

"Unless he changed his name to Riddle and he was in fact Voldemort's grandfather and not another generation back? Magical aging and all that," Hermione said. "Perhaps he wanted the Riddle name to cause less problems with living in the big house."

"If he did that unofficially then you wouldn't find it in your records, would you?" asked Ginny.

"Even with more official records in the 1800s, you'd be surprised just how many people went 'missing' only to be somewhere else under a different name. Perhaps running from debt, as you could be put in prison for debt, or running from supporting too many kids, or another crime. Sometimes just to get that fresh start."

"In which case, he could be in the big old tomb next door."

"It's sounds more likely the more I think about it," answered Hermione, brushing down her jeans, and getting a wet wipe from her bag to clean her hands. "Which means any children he had were probably squibs or completely non-magical, until Voldermort came along a generation or two later, and got the Gaunt factor back in play. But if he did a name change and went overseas too, then it explains why he's not clear in the records."

After only a few moments longer, they walked back towards the church path, and waited for Fleur, who appeared shortly and handed the notebooks, containing the copied parish registers, back to Hermione to put in her beaded bag, as they told her of their find and theory.

They strolled through the village, no horses and carts going by, but a few cars did.

"Apart from that," Hermione gestured to a car that had passed them. "It hasn't really changed, not from 1832 to 1943, to now."

"It seems odd that the house is no longer there," said Ginny.

The Riddle manor house had been demolished in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998. It was seen as a dangerous place for focus to fall in any hint of martyrdom and the fanatics it might serve. A Grade II listed building would ordinarily have so many orders on it, to not even be allowed to change the colour of the paint on the windowsills, but it was a ruin of a building, and the danger of the distasteful interest it could pose, was more important than preserving an old house. Instead a livery and riding stables had been built on the site. Likewise, the Gaunt hovel in the woods had also been demolished, with all trace of it gone, including the flattened pathways that led to it.

"Nice excursions or horrible reminders?" Hermione asked her wife.

"I'd say nice excursion and okay reminders," Ginny replied. "Nothing _really_ bad happened to us last time."

"We got lucky, even though we both got a bit sliced and diced."

"Anne wouldn't believe it if she saw this area now," said Hermione. "Shibden Hall looks more like she was trying to make it, but she never saw the work finished."

"It makes it more obvious, that however and whomsoever you are, that we all sort of flit through life and flit out again," observed Fleur. "A bit like a mist, and it's varied as to how many people get caught in your mist."

"I like the mist analogy," said Hermione.

"So you're saying that, we're the cause of variable amounts of people getting damp and soggy if they come into our life?" asked Ginny, grinning.

Fleur laughed. "The theory still works, if no account is taken of the literal meaning too. We touch many lives, some more than others and some people..."

"We make wet," said Ginny, unable to stop laughing. Her French sister-in-law looked like she might be annoyed, but snorted with laughter too. "Anne Lister was a master at that!" Ginny added.

Hermione actually blushed slightly, but all three of them were trying to stifle the laughs to actually walk straight. "At least you're enjoying your first unofficial-official field trip."

"I see why you enjoy the work. It's detective work, trying to find out the hidden things." Ginny paused, then added. "It's always strange visiting a place we've seen in the past...a long way in the past."

"It's like someone watching you, but you turn round and no one is there," said Hermione.

"I hope no one _is_ watching us," said Ginny, unable to resist a glance over her shoulder. "I suppose Little Hangleton is one of only a handful of places we've visited in three different time periods."

"And I've not really liked the place in any era," said Hermione, disgruntled.

"We've never been here to sight-see," said Ginny.

"You've both always had to visit here with incomplete knowledge but a serious task to accomplish and always met various dangerous opponents here," observed Fleur. "Except for now, although I would say the memories are the opponents now."

They got to the end of the street to where the Hanged Man pub was.

"Oh?!" Hermione was surprised to see that the pub was called something different.

"That's made me feel better about it," said Ginny.

Above the name "The Black Horse" was a painted picture of a proud-looking black stallion.

"I suppose they chose black as Great Hangleton has the White Hart," said Hermione. "No confusion then."

Closing around near the door, they looked at an inset sign on the door lintel, naming the owners.

"Do you have any McConville's on your list?" asked Ginny.

"Not that I know of," said Hermione

"No, none," said Fleur. "In terms of Massey, we think Jane is the last line, and as far as we know she hasn't got married and decided to run a pub."

"I think I'd like to finish for the day," said Hermione. "Maybe start looking at those registers tomorrow."

"Fine with me," agreed Fleur. "I'll see you tomorrow, at Shell Cottage."

They walked around the side of the pub, into what was still a very small lane, and checking that no one was looking their way, they Disapparated to their respective homes.

At Godric's Hollow, Hermione went and sat down in their study, Ginny following and sitting on another chair.

"You didn't find it too boring?" asked the brunette.

"No. It was fascinating and a little creepy," replied Ginny. "It always has been if we've retraced our steps."

"Could you see a career change? Work for the Ministry on something similar?"

"I enjoyed it, and as dangerous as it's always been, I've always got so much out of the times we've been called upon, but I don't think I'm Ministry material, not even an autonomous area like you work with."

"Back to playing, then?"

"I'm wondering if I should maybe look at next season as a final one playing and start incorporating coaching, like Gwennog did," Ginny said. "I wouldn't want the top job, but being involved in some way would be good."

Hermione ducked a hand under her desk, reached for something and heard a _'click'_ before she then put a red velvet pouch on the desk. She opened it to show the two Time-Turners they had in their possession.

"We hold the power to visit anywhere at any time," said Hermione, turning the one Jane had used over in her hand.

"Perhaps we can go into the future and see if the Harpies win anything next season?" Ginny said, grinning.

"The future is never talked about with these things. Only getting back to where you started from."

"Dumbledore seemed to flit about?" questioned Ginny.

"He was Dumbledore," Hermione smiled. "The rules were always different for him. I don't mean laws, I mean the actual scientific rules of what can and can't be done."

"True enough."

"I often think of things we could go and visit together, but then there's risk involved."

"There's always risk with those things. But maybe there will be a time when the risk seems worth it, or we're asked to do something again."

Hermione carefully wrapped the Time-Turners back into the velvet pouch and reached back under her desk and a _'click'_ told her the secret compartment had closed. It was always warded with spells too.

"I know you worry about us having them," said Ginny. "Anyone trying to get one not only has to get in here, get past your spells, actually find the catch to open the compartment, but before all of that, they have to get past Humphrey!"

"I never thought I'd hear you praise him?"

"I'm not," said Ginny flatly. "But he's quite useful and very stubborn on the rules of entry to the house. And the back garden can't be accessed except by invitation and somehow, being Dumbledore's old house, it seems to know a person's intent."

"It's certainly safer than Gringotts," agreed Hermione.

"One day, maybe, we'll have a need for those instruments, but until then lets just forget about them." Ginny stood up, walked around the desk, then bent down and kissed the top of Hermione's head.

There would always be thoughts in the back of Hermione's mind, from time to time, about the responsibility they were guarding and the implications and possibilities it held.


	16. Chapter 16 In Theory

Chapter Sixteen – "In Theory"

September 2008

Hermione shuffled her papers into her folder, tucked them under her arm and left the room, nodding to a couple of the people sat in the outer office at the Ministry. She still worked there, but on a much more part time basis. Fleur and herself had managed a comprehensive study on the families of interest to them, finding a couple of descendants that had no idea of their ancestry and fortunately no magical ability either. They had descended from one of the two children of the John Massey Hermione met in 1832; the other child became Jane Howard's line. However, the Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was so impressed with their work that he wanted their mini department kept open. Often Hermione or Fleur were called to another department to give their opinions on anything from criminal activity, to some of the strange things in the Department of Mysteries.

The part time nature of her work suited Hermione very well. She had time to herself, time for Ginny and perhaps for the first time, to just live, as life rumbled on around her. She had nothing to prove to anyone, least of all to herself. She kept her promise to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts and occasionally visited for special lessons, or talks to various groups of students and she much preferred that way of teaching than being a full time teacher. She felt she could have more impact than she ever could as an ordinary Hogwarts professor.

Ginny had gone back to the Harpies, but was now a player-coach, specifically training chasers and seekers, and it had rejuvenated her love of quidditch, for at least one more season, anyway.

The former Gryffindor Head Girl, former Ministry Law Enforcer, former Hogwarts Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts and lately Ministry special agent – which Ron called her – had now reached a point where she could look at other interests and have time for it.

She had gone a long way to overcome her anxiety and panic attacks again; after everything, she believed in herself, and others believed in her. She had started to address things almost immediately, spurred on by the love she had felt from those closest to her.

She had experienced many things in her life and in the past year, but she had been drawn to one thing time and again, and when she got spare moments, when Ginny was at training and she had nothing else to do on any given day, she could be found at a room in a library. Nothing was strange about finding Hermione in a library, nor would Fleur nor the Ministry find it odd that she spent a lot of time in a library in Halifax, as it held a lot of records on the surrounding villages, and she had had to search records there a few times in the last few months, to chase up births and deaths for her work. However, her frequent returns now would possibly raise questions from all except Ginny, that she had spent hours reading Anne Lister's diaries. She knew she was perhaps spending too much time over them, but she couldn't stop her thirst for the words within them.

She learned the code, which was fairly simple to grasp, with the handwriting being more difficult, but her parents were dentists and all medical professions had appalling handwriting, so this was no barrier to her.

Initially, Hermione read pages that related to the time they had been there in 1832, translating the coded bits and checking them with one of the books that covered a lot of 1832. Nothing was out of place. In fact it was almost dull for that week or two around their visit, which meant Anne had indeed kept the oath she had made.

She moved onto the time, not many weeks later, when Anne had courted Ann Walker, but in a strange way she felt like she was intruding, and only picked out pieces here and there and went to 1834 for the time they technically married. It saddened her to see that Anne had her doubts right up to that time and not long after they had married. And it became a repeated theme, of Anne wondering how she could get rid of Ann Walker, or let her leave.

As disconcerted as Hermione was at the imperfect relationship she was reading about, she thought about something she had told Ginny: that Anne wrote in her diary as a release of tension. Once it was all on the page, it was out of her mind and she remained calm on the outside. Hermione had actually been amused the few times she read that Anne complained of Ann's snoring and the times she pretended to be asleep when Ann felt amorous or wanted pity; it made her think of some of the times she had pretended to be asleep to Ginny, usually after a small disagreement. _She's not so different to anyone else,_ she thought of Anne Lister. What became apparent were two observations; one that Anne Lister couldn't go through with ending things with Ann Walker because she needed the money badly, and secondly, which seemed possible both in conjunction with the money, but underlying it all: Anne _loved_ Ann. She might have written that she didn't know how Ann would manage without her and that Ann would be bored and lonely by herself, but in fact _Anne_ couldn't leave her, or _let_ her leave either. As she had said in the early days, there was something that made her keep going back, and it was beyond money or control.

Having left work for the day at lunch time, Hermione stopped for a sandwich and a coffee at a cafe near the Ministry, before making her way to Halifax Library again. The staff knew her well now, and they showed her to a room to carry on her research.

The past few weeks Hermione had been delving into the diary that covered 1840, known as 'Diary 24'. It was mostly travel notes and often disjointed entries, where Anne had so obviously not had time, or means, to write about things on the actual days they happened and wrote things up later.

Something had drawn Hermione to occasionally look to the last entries in August 1840; the last entries known to have survived before Anne died, supposedly of a fever, possibly from a tick. In 1840s Georgia, or 1840s anywhere, the term fever could have meant so many things. Whatever the case, it saddened Hermione, how things just ended up in the air, still full of optimism to what they might see next, but just cut off.

Today she was looking at June and July entries for 1840, trying to piece together a travel log of dates, and once more she reread the last few pages in August again.

Ginny always knew what Hermione had been reading when she got home, and today was no different. As they got ready for bed, Hermione was a little distracted.

"August 1840 again?" she asked, with no humour.

"Yeah," said Hermione. "How was your day?"

"Not bad, a couple of the new signings look close to getting a game," Ginny then wrapped her arms around Hermione. "Are you really okay?"

Hermione softened and leaned into her partner. "Yeah."

"I always know you've read it, you're incredibly sad. And that's okay, I just wish I could help you."

"I think it will always sadden me, like the broken pieces of her gravestone and the uncertain and unmarked location of her coffin in the church." Hermione sighed. "I shouldn't obsess and I can't change anything, but it always saddens me. It did before I met her and it's only more profoundly felt since we _did_ meet her. I think...she helped me on to the road to getting better with the anxiety. In fact I _know _she did."

"I know," replied Ginny.

"Oh...shit, I don't mean you didn't help," Hermione said, guiltily. "You have been here for me every time. I..."

"She helped you," said Ginny, "And I thank her for it. You had both of us to talk to, perhaps without even realizing how it was that she helped too. I think she helped you to believe in yourself again and to trust yourself. Panic attacks were just another part of the package, another part of you."

"I'm not sure she could ever imagine what our lives were like, or what jobs it is that either of us do, let alone the fact we lowered ourselves to working at all, but she saw through what I needed to do."

"Exactly," said her wife. "Sometimes we all need a different ear to whisper into, or state things to. And when you think about it, that was one hell of person to confide in."

Hermione smiled. "She is...was, certainly that, and more."

"As we've said before, it could be said she died while doing something she loved: travelling to unusual places and meeting unusual people, with Ann along with her. That seems better than kicking the bucket asleep in bed on a very normal day."

"It does when you put it that way, and I don't even know what would make it better, at all," said a slightly exasperated Hermione. "It just gets to me."

"Maybe take a break from the diaries?" suggested Ginny. "They're not going anywhere."

"I can't," said Hermione. "Perhaps, if I get this last couple of months read properly, then I'll leave them for a while."

"I know we've been there more than most, but you can't live in the past,"said Ginny with a wry smile. "You have to keep living your life too."

"I know," the brunette replied. "You're not losing me to ghosts. Nor to madness. I think it's all from our time-travelling exploits. It's made me question those key moments and decisions that people choose. I know it's futile to wonder if something were different, but in some cases it stays with me longer. I don't know...maybe I've been looking at deaths too much lately. I think she helped my anxiety, but now I'm depressed."

"I can see how it would prey on you," Ginny said softly. "You never do anything by halves and this whole project you've been on has been deep."

"I think perhaps I do need a break."

"Might I suggest a few days away somewhere else?"

"You would be there too!?" said a worried Hermione.

"Of course," Ginny smiled. "I can get a few days off during any week, I choose. I'm semi-management."

"Semi-management." Hermione laughed. "I like that!"

"It's not quite as grand as 'Special Agent'."

"That's not official, you know. It's just your brother calling me that, and a few others stuck with it. Fleur's called that too."

"I've always thought you're special," said Ginny, looking steadily into her wife's eyes, then Hermione kissed her.

What started as a gentle slow kiss, deepened, into a need of connection; to caress desire with the emotion of love, with every action. With her fingers deep inside Ginny, punctuating time with kisses to lips and jaw, neck and breasts, Hermione looked straight into her wife's eyes as she felt her climax. Faster than she thought possible, Ginny had flipped Hermione and settled between her thighs, her tongue and fingers taking very little time to push her partner over the edge.

They spent a while lying facing each other, their legs entwined, occasionally leaning forward to kiss, but ultimately finding a sated sleep.

After her chat with Ginny, Hermione had set herself the rest of the week through to the following Monday afternoon to finish reading May to July 1840 of Anne Lister's diary, for the days she had so far missed out. There was nothing urgent at the Ministry and she wound down to four half days of work and none the following week so they could have a break, the rest of the working time was spent in Halifax library with 'Diary 24'.

Among some of the coded pieces included lots more of Anne talking of separating from Ann, though the reluctance was clear to read. It wouldn't be Ann Walker that struggled to cope without her as much as round the other way. As much as she complained that Ann was _'always at my elbow'_ she would miss her a lot if she wasn't there any more. Hermione thought Anne would even miss the moody silences and tears. She had obviously not followed their subtle advice on constipation, but it had made Hermione stifle a laugh reading the entry for 7 May, when Anne had killed a flea she found in her 'drawers'. _Oh rest in peace little flea, _she thought amused, _you should be honoured, you're in code, and you got into Anne Lister's pants._

She had enjoyed a lot of the travel part of the diary, seeing in her mind the places that few people could access, even in modern times, and places that no longer existed in the same way, but she had some problems cross referencing places, either due to Anne's poor spelling of local names, or places now known by different names, or all of the above. The time it took to travel from one place to another seemed to take an age, in carriages and through places that could only use the term 'road' in its vaguest form. _Are we lucky or cursed that we can travel nearly anywhere within a few hours? A lot less with magical folk,_ she thought, wistfully.

Hermione put away her notebooks, and without reading the last August entries this time, left the library to go home.

Ginny and Hermione had decided to go to London and stay at the house belonging to a friend of Ginny's at the Harpies, from the boardroom staff. They had been there several times over the years. It was a very spacious muggle house, in a muggle street in the Victoria area of London, a short walk from Victoria Station,.

With their enchanted bags, both could pack everything and anything they might need and it made them both think they would never be able to go back to muggle luggage completely, because they had grown so used to packing everything they wanted with no space or weight limits.

"Are you ready?" Ginny called up the stairs, early on the Tuesday morning.

"Almost," came the reply from downstairs, instead. Hermione then walked through to the hall putting a book into her beaded bag. "Just grabbed a couple of books, from the study."

"All set?"

"Yes," said Hermione, taking her wife's hand and leading them through to the back garden.

Arriving at the house early in the morning in Victoria, provided the maximum chance that their arrival wouldn't be seen. It was a large tall thin house – which looked like every other house in the street - with every feature and comfort they could ever want; they always enjoyed staying there, with their friend always insisting that he pay for nearly everything of their stay, leaving Oyster travel cards and even credit cards for them to use. It gave the impression he lived there more than he did, which appeared to make him very happy; of course, everyone assumed it was a tax dodge, but no one cared too much with the very nice arrangements.

"I wonder how much this place would sell for now?" said Hermione. "London property values are so inflated."

"I don't know much about property values," said Ginny, putting some clothes into a wardrobe, to let any creases drop. "I'm _sure_ it's an investment or a tax dodge. He hardly ever comes here, nor his family. It's mostly friends that get a free holiday out of it."

"Lucky for us, then."

The fridge and cupboards were always stocked whenever they came here, which was also a very nice touch. After settling in, and having a bite of toast they decided to go to Westminster and have a wander around the bridge, and the Houses of Parliament.

They travelled by the underground, enjoying the ordinary mode of transport; using the tube was in itself like a holiday activity. Although Hermione worked at the Ministry, she rarely saw much of London except a nearby cafe to the Ministry, so she wasn't feeling as though she was anywhere near to her work place.

On exiting from the Westminster tube station out onto the pavements, they weren't far from the Boadicea statue. They always looked at it, even though it was a Victorian idealized image to portray patriotism rather than a real tribute. "I always think at least they have the more correct _Boudicca_ name underneath. Stupid Victorians weren't very good with bad handwriting and romanticizing every blooming thing."

Ginny smiled. "I love that you always say that here."

"I didn't want to break the habit," Hermione said with an equally big grin. "Although, personally I spell it with one 'c', but both are valid."

Instead of walking on the bridge, they decided to walk around to Westminster Abbey, always impressed how the towers stretched up into the sky and that its foundations had been there so long; that it housed the remains and shrine of Edward the Confessor.

"Little test for you," said Hermione. "When did Edward the Confessor die?"

"Ahh...give me a moment," Ginny complied and was thinking on the answer but soon clicked her fingers. "1066...had to be, because due to his inadequate crapness, his death resulted in William the Conqueror invading and wiping Harold II off the field of play at the Battle of Hastings."

"Inadequate crapness?!" Hermione laughed. "Shhh, don't say that too loudly, he _is_ a saint?!"

"I don't think he minds," said Ginny.

"He was one of the first type of patron saints of England before that St. George bloke," Hermione said with obvious disdain.

"You never liked old George, did you?"

"He wasn't English, he never stepped foot in England, probably couldn't speak English, and most definitely didn't kill a dragon...AND he's also patron saint of syphilis?!"

"I'm sure he can't help that. He probably didn't choose the job title...as he was dead by then."

"I know, but where is the sense in it?" Hermione offered a mint sweet to Ginny, and had one herself. "St. Edmund made sense, King of East Anglia, often said to be the last English King...killed by the Vikings in the ninth century, but at least he was born here. They even named the place he was buried in Suffolk as 'Bury St. Edmunds' or the older "St Edmundsbury. And he was for a long time an unofficially official patron saint, guardian of monarchs...kings visited his shrine for guidance and credibility when making big decisions...even a pre-Magna Carta meeting was held there...urgh..."

"I suspect that championing your well thought out case won't get you very far," offered Ginny in good humour.

"No, it won't...aside from the fact that England is technically Anglican, and therefore protestant in religion, so in theory saints shouldn't hold much sway anyway...and religion itself doesn't hold much sway these days either."

"Well, if Salazar Slytherin can be a founder of a school then old syphilitic George can be England's saint," said Ginny.

Hermione snorted with laughter. "I'm not sure George had syphilis himself...though, I suppose he might have..."

Ginny put her arm around Hermione's shoulders as they both looked up again at the towers of Westminster Abbey. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah." After a pause she added. "What changes this place has stood sentinel over. Not just all the coronations and weddings but the city around it."

"Riots, wars...questionable dress sense," said Ginny, eyeing a couple of tourists in rather tight ill-fitting shorts.

"Yup, because the length of one's skirt – or shorts - is right up there with the importance of choice of monarch and religious upheaval."

They moved on and spent the rest of the day in Covent Garden, looking around the many market stalls and shops, having a pleasant lunch there too. Both tired from their day of tourism, they slept soundly that night.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Next morning after they had showered and were having some breakfast, looking over a couple of new guidebooks they had bought the day before, Ginny became thoughtful. "Looking at all those places and what you said about the things those places have lived through and seen...I wonder if in many years time, people will look at Hogwarts in our world and think of the battle that played out there, of the people we lost and the things that happened."

"All of it is in the revised 'Hogwarts: A History'," replied Hermione. "As well as other supplementary publications. We're already part of history in the books."

"It made me think about Boudicca and what she would think of people and the position of the country if she could see it."

"Scared stiff, probably!" replied Hermione.

"I imagine her first glimpse of a London black cab hurtling past would be a shock to the system. It often befuddles the current magic world."

They were quiet for a time, and Ginny looked at Hermione and could see she was thinking deeply about something. She reached out and brushed back a strand of hair from her wife's face. "I haven't made you glum, thinking on the battle at Hogwarts, have I?"

Hermione raised her head and looked back at her wife. "No. Not glum."

"Something had your attention there, you looked miles away?"

The brunette didn't answer, but looked a little pensive; not pained, but unsettled. Ginny moved and got hold of Hermione's hands. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really...I don't quite know what to do..."

"About?"

"An idea I have."

"Where to visit today?"

"Not really, something else."

"Shit! You don't want to look for Boudicca, do you?"

"What?" Hermione's eyes flicked up, alarmed. "No, of course not. Besides, I don't have a clue where she would be most of the time. No one can even state the exact place of her final battle. And it was fairly dangerous around her at any time, so we couldn't just drop in."

"That means you've thought about it?"

"In theory, I have no wish to get mixed up with that." Hermione smiled and stroked Ginny's hair in return. "You might get away as an original Briton or Celt with that hair and your physique as a warrior, but I suspect I wouldn't look convincing as anything there."

"So what's your idea? I promise I won't laugh."

"I was thinking over a theory of bringing Anne Lister here for a day or two."

Ginny was silent, her eyes wide, her mouth forming a word but no sound coming out. Finally she said. "I'm definitely not laughing. In theory, right?"

"I was thinking more the practical."

"Fuck!"

"We couldn't go back to 1832 again, as it's too dangerous with us having been there before and I don't want to encroach on her and Ann Walker, but she was nearly at her most adventurous in 1840 and I think I can pin her down to an exact place and day that it might work, without any need for costumes and fake bloody names. Literally an in and out mission."

"It's still dangerous," said Ginny. "Maybe I should ask, why? I think I know, but tell me. Help me understand, or at least make some sense of it."

"I hate that she just dies," Hermione held Ginny's hand when her wife was about to interrupt. "I _know_, we can't save her, and I don't intend to. She was so interested in our time and our life, disbelieving most of it. I want to repay her trust, the way she took us in and helped us. I want to show her..._here_. Picking a time so late into 1840 also means there's less risk of her talking about us in her diary, as it's all full of travel and annoyance at Ann."

"What if she doesn't want to go back again?"

"I think she will, if not we can come up with some rubbish about time rules and certain death and side effects. Besides, despite her blustering, she wouldn't leave Ann from the place I have pinpointed."

"Which is?"

"A monastery, up a cliff, in Georgia." Hermione closed her eyes, barely opening one eye to gauge Ginny's reaction.

"It keeps the isolation intact."

"I can be more specific, down to an area where Anne...has a toilet break...,"

"Well if she had constipation before, you turning up beside her suddenly, will solve that problem!"

"So, do you think I'm mad?"

"Frequently!" Then Ginny brought one of Hermione's hands to her lips. "No. I understand it. If it gets known we'll be in some serious shit. Anne Lister's bowel movements will be nothing compared to that."

"I know that too. I'm banking on my autonomy. My 'brief' of experiments. And it is known by a few, Kingsley, Harry and that lot, that we met and worked with her, despite her being a muggle and not wiping her memory. The fact we've proven that she kept her word and that nothing has changed that risks our exposure from that time, proves that she is trustworthy and not liable to be bad."

"I'm not sure _they'll_ see it like that."

"Well, I'll claim stress of deaths..."

"You _have_ been stressed," said Ginny. "Mostly in a sad, quiet way."

"Fleur has said the same," Hermione nodded. "I will go alone, you will not be involved in the travel."

"I don't like that! What if something goes wrong and you're stuck there?"

"I have both Time-Turners, and spare diamonds," said Hermione, reaching for her beaded bag and pulling out the velvet pouch.

"So it wasn't just books you got from the study before we left?"

"No. I wasn't sure, that once I got here I'd still feel as keen, in some ways it's made me more certain that I want to try."

"There are so many 'what if' things that could go wrong. What if she's stuck here?" asked Ginny, concerned.

"Then together with Flitwick, we make another Time-Turner for us and we sort it out...I'm almost sure I could make a decent one myself with a few pointers."

"How long have you been thinking on this?"

"Properly, only the past couple of weeks, but like any part of history I always have thoughts of what people would think if brought here from various eras."

"It's just Anne Lister, though?"

"Yeah, too risky for more, and I have no one else I'm willing to try this for."

"Would you bring her here?"

"Yes, it's safer here than our house. Plus she knows London from her time, so although it's changed a huge amount, there are things she will know. And also, she must not see Shibden Hall how it is today, or anything that might show that her diaries have been read and the code has been deciphered. So Halifax or even York is out of the question."

"And if she doesn't want to come here?"

"Then I won't push."

"I can't get past all the dangers, but I understand. Even_ I_ would be fascinated to see what she made of this place. I'd like to...talk to her again," Ginny looked up into Hermione's face.

"No," said Hermione, sternly, seeing a question in her partner's face. "I don't want _that_ with her. That's not what this is about. If any of that time showed me, it's how much I love and want you, and no one else. The experience was interesting and I do care for her, but nothing on the level I love you."

"It could make you look like a hypocrite if it's discovered."

"I know and don't give a flying fart!" said Hermione, astonishing her partner. "They keep saying we're the most qualified, blah blah, and we _are_. If it does go wrong, then I'll take the heat. Then it might only prove that Time-Turners should be outlawed."

Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione, then kissed her. "I still don't like you going alone. I don't like a lot about this, but especially not that bit."

"Okay then, you come with me, we have the chain lengthened from before."

"Deal," Ginny nodded. "We're going to need to dress her differently if she ever steps foot outside the house."

"I thought of that too," said Hermione. "Otherwise people will think she's just come off the film set of some Jane Austen or Dickensian production."

"If we go from here and back to here, clothing won't be an issue."

"Call me sadistic, but I want to go dressed like this, in our normal stuff...the surprise effect would be golden."

"You _are_ sadistic! She's definitely not going to have constipation after this!" Ginny laughed. "So when are we going to do this?"

"This morning...now-ish."

"Why not, we're here until Friday. The less time we have to wait, the better...it's not like we could sleep on it and do this tomorrow."

"I know it's kind of exciting."

"Madness, but exciting," said Ginny, resigned. "We'd better get prepared then."

Hermione knew that Anne's diary mentioned very warm conditions so she and Ginny, thought they would be fine in roughly what they wore; they would hopefully not be there for long, anyway. They quickly got out some clothes and put them on the guest room bed, which they thought could be worn by Anne, and magically altered as need be.

"What about underwear? She surely won't be comfortable in her usual stuff under that?" said Ginny.

"If and when I magic her into them, I'll make sure she has one of those soft pull on bras...she would probably think we were trying to garotte her if she had a real bra on. She's not too big in that area, so it will be fine. And perhaps some ladies boxers, will be closest to her current things." Hermione prepared both under garments and made three of each using some white T-shirts as the donor material. Finally she laid out some socks.

Both women, themselves, wore jeans and T'shirts, and as Ginny put on some decent walking shoes she asked, "So you have a very good guess of time? Where she'll be, exactly?"

"As far as I can see, she takes a call of nature before she writes up some notes. The note is about 11.10am so I reckon 10.45am might work."

"Is Ann Walker around? If so, that's going to take some explaining."

"No, she isn't right there at that moment. She's a little way off sketching the monastery. They had other people in their travelling group so she won't be left alone," said Hermione as she tied her own laces.

"And the location?"

"This is the hard part. As far as I can be sure from the time it takes them to travel from Kutaisi and the nearness to Sachkhere, I'm banking on the Time-Turner knowing where a place is regardless of name changes. She writes about a 'Djirootchy' monastery, so I'll just have to go with it and hope for the best. Nothing came up on my searches, but the area they are in, following around the Kvirila river, might be the site of a monastery called Mgvimevi today...the rocks and caves sound so like Anne's descriptions. I'll go for the old word she uses and hope the Time-Turner takes us to the right place."

"Well, if we're seen by someone we don't intend to see us, we can quickly get out of that with a cloaking spell, which gives us time to find somewhere to hide."

"I thought we'd leave from the bedroom she'd be staying in, then if she does come back with us and isn't a good time-traveller, she has the bed right there."

"I think you've thought of almost everything," said Ginny, smiling. "Come on then, let's get going. Having too much time to think about it will probably put me off and change my mind."

Hermione brought out the velvet pouch and checked the diamond on the Time-Turner they had used before, then put the pouch with the extra diamonds and the other Time-Turner back into her beaded bag. She put the chain over their necks. Then she checked her watch as 9.30am, and adding a couple of minutes to the time to return, then pointed her wand to the Time-Turner, as Ginny held onto her arm.

"10.45am 24th July 1840, near church of Djirootchy monastery, Georgia, _Movere_."

The journey was the usual slightly unpleasant rush of squeezing, pushing, windblown roaring movement, yet also giving the feeling of being suspended in mid-air.

They landed in a much warmer place than they had left and quickly assessed where they were, the church of the monastery was nearby and there were natural rocks around the area. They couldn't see or hear anyone and Hermione pointed to some trees away from where they were which they could observe from.

Once there, panting from nerves more than exertion or heat, Hermione said. "She mentioned something about a recess in the rocks." She looked at the area ahead of them, and to the side there were several rocks with what looked like a way to walk through to them.

After a couple of minutes, when they were considering how best to stay hidden, if and when Anne walked up to the rocks, they heard movement in that direction, of feet on slightly loose stones; perhaps it wasn't human, it could have been an animal of some kind.

Continuing to watch the area Hermione said. "She wrote in code that she had a 'little motion'...," Ginny looked round at her with a look of amused mock squeamishness. "...and that she washed her...oh bugger."

"Washed her what?"

"It's her!"

As Ginny turned her head back they saw Anne emerge from the clump of rocks, still adjusting her clothing to hang better. No one else was near, although they thought they could make out the occasional sound of chatter, that got louder in the breeze then faded again, which must be coming from the travel party down the slope.

"Here goes nothing," said Hermione, as she stood up and walked out, Ginny following. "Hello, Anne."

Anne Lister stopped, rooted to the spot, staring at the women dressed peculiarly in front of her. Were they bandits? Obviously not rogue monks. Was she in danger from these strange people?...they knew her name...they looked familiar...?

"Do you remember us?" Hermione asked, staying back to give her space.

"Yes," Anne said, swallowing hard. "Of course. It's been...eight years."

"Yeah, it's been..."

"And you haven't aged at all," said Anne, walking up to them, _really_ looking at them, to the point of studying.

"When we first met," explained Hermione, noticing that Anne's face was more lined and very tanned, she was as lithe as ever and she had a little greying hair at her temples. "We had come from the year 2007, this time we've come from 2008. So only about a year to us."

"Perhaps one should ask _why_ you're here this time? And why here?" Anne asked.

Ginny was about to answer, "Well..." but was cut off by Anne as her thought processes went into over drive.

"No, no, one should ask how you knew _I_ would be here?"

Hermione looked at her watch, knowing that to have a smooth transition they couldn't stand there talking all day. She reckoned they had about eight minutes.

"Your notes on travel have been preserved in our time, so we know what you visited and what things looked like, even if they have different names in our time."

Anne nodded, accepting the possibility and her face twitched slightly making Hermione wonder if a smile was close to breaking out, because at one time Anne had considered publishing books on her travel for others to read. It had partly started her getting the travel bug.

"The reason we're here...and we don't have much time...but would you like to come back with us, for a couple of days?" Ginny asked.

"Back where? England?"

"Yes, but our England in 2008."

"Why?"

"Just to experience it. We told you so much about our time, would you like to see it for yourself?"

"So there's no murders this time?"

"No. It is purely a holiday type of trip, with no missions or things that need doing," said Hermione, checking her watch again. "We soon need an answer though...like in the next minute or two."

"I can't leave, right now. I have people...I have my...I have...Miss Walker...down the slope waiting for me."

"No one will know you're gone," said Hermione, keeping from smiling that even now Anne was cautious about saying 'my wife' out loud and not automatically. "When you come back, we'll take you to this moment. No one will know you have even gone." Anne nodded. "So, you haven't said no, yet?"

"Would I be going to your house?" Anne asked.

"No," said Ginny. "It's a house we're staying at in Victoria, London."

Anne's interest was piqued. "And I can come back to here whenever I want to?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "If you want to come back immediately we will do it. We'll do nothing against your wishes on that front."

"And we can go, now, right now?"

"That's a yes?"

Anne smiled. "As much as I enjoy travelling, a house in London does sound rather tempting."

Hermione brought out the Time-Turner and put the long chain over their necks. "Time?"

Out came Anne's pocket watch. "10.58"

It made Hermione grin and feel a warmth down to her toes. It was the famous, or infamous, little pieces of Anne Lister's character that always intrigued her.

"When we come back we'll make it 10.59. Okay," Hermione got her wand out and pointed at the Time-Turner, giving their location in Victoria the date and time and "_Movere_."

Ginny held onto one of Anne's arms to make sure they didn't lose her in some way and in moments, which always seemed longer, they landed back in the house in London. Anne was unsteady, so Hermione took the chain from their necks and prodded her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"That was...," Anne panted, shaking her head slightly. "Strange."

"You don't feel ill?"

"Not really, only off balance on arrival."

"I know you've had a lot of information," said Ginny, looking at Anne, taking in the travel worn and dusty clothing. "We need to get you into modern clothes, so it doesn't matter if you are seen."

"Fine, do what you must," said Anne, a little dazed.

"We'll do it the wand way, then things will also fit you better," said Hermione, as she flicked her wand, and suddenly Anne was sitting there in comfortable cotton, wide-legged, black trousers and a blue cotton check shirt, with her own clothes hanging in the wardrobe.

Anne stood up, a look of dismay, wonder and a touch of fear at what she was wearing. And her feet had a solid pair of black lace-up walking shoes.

"The trousers?" Anne pointed to herself. "Really?"

"Are they too tight?" asked Ginny.

"No...they're too...vulgar...too obvious," Anne tried to explain.

"Oh...no, don't worry about it. It's completely normal for women to be seen in trousers. Probably more women wear trousers now rather than skirts. All kinds of women too."

"Walk up and down, look in the mirror over on the wardrobe," gestured Ginny. "If you really hate something we can change it."

Anne carefully walked to the mirror, unused to the modern fit of the trousers and the comfort of the shoes almost feeling like they were moulded to the shape of her foot. The blue of the check shirt was acceptable, but it all felt and looked very peculiar.

"Hair," said Ginny.

"I assume you'd like it kept back...so we'll give you a simple ponytail like Ginny's wearing now," said Hermione, as she flicked her wand again. Somehow the pony tail completely softened Anne's countenance.

Rubbing a hand to her cheek Anne said, "I'm sorry to say I'm a little grubby."

"No problem," said Hermione, with a flick of the wand performing a cleaning spell.

Anne still looked a bit perplexed and unsettled.

"Right," said Ginny, deciding on a course of action. "Cup of tea, or coffee, downstairs."

They led the way to the kitchen sitting Anne at the table. The kitchen had a dining area and also a lounge area just off it with a television. Ginny often did things the muggle way when it came to food and drink and part of her was interested to see how Anne would react to an electric kettle. She filled it with water and set it on its base and flicked the switch, immediately producing the faint roaring sound as it heated up.

"Milk, sugar?" asked Hermione.

"No. I've taken to drinking it black with no sugar lately," Anne let her gaze roam the kitchen. "Does that contraption brew tea as well?"

"No, it's only a kettle, just boils the water, we tend not to use teapots, or not as often, when we have...," Hermione stuck her hand in a jar and produced a tea bag. "...the humble teabag. You can decide how strong you want it yourself and everyone likes their cuppa different."

Ginny opened the large fridge door, and brought out a milk bottle, aware that she was being watched carefully. "Cold storage. Come have a look."

Anne walked over and Ginny was entertained as Anne opened the door, became transfixed by the lights that came on and opened it a couple more times.

"The other side is a freezer," said Hermione, opening the other door on the fridge, she picked up a packet of frozen peas and gave to Anne, who was so surprised she nearly juggled them.

"And everyone has one of these cold stores, instead of ice houses or cold pantries?"

"Most, probably not as big as this one, but yes, everyone has a fridge. Keeps things like milk and butter fresh, salad vegetables, meat. There would be so much more food poisoning without them and things wouldn't last as long," Hermione explained.

Anne looked at the milk bottle, a four-pinter and nearly dropped it when the bottle squished in her hand. "What kind of glass is soft?"

"Plastic," said Hermione. "A man-made material, don't ask me how or from what, not my field of expertise. It's used for all kinds of things including bottles of milk. Sadly there's too much of the stuff on the planet and we're all killing ourselves with it, the plastic that is, not the milk. But that's a whole other issue. The fact is, it's useful."

A few minutes later, with Anne mesmerised by dunking her own teabag, yet very slightly mystified by it and possibly even distrustful of the teabag, and most especially of the chunky mug she was holding that had a picture of a rabbit, wearing a blue overcoat, eating a radish. Looking at the others' drinking cups, Ginny was drinking from a mug with a curious smiling ginger and black striped cat, and Hermione was drinking from one with the words 'Everything tastes better with cat hair in it'.

"There are some rules about being here," said Hermione. "I'm sure there are some things you would very much like to see. However, we can't leave London."

Anne finally discarded her teabag on the teabag dish, on the table in front of her. "So I can't see Shibden?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"It becomes very dangerous when we cross over into the things we shouldn't see or know," said Ginny. "Like when we went to 1943, we could have looked for our grandparents, but we didn't. It would have been very foolish."

"But it still stands?" Anne asked.

"Yes," then Hermione thought carefully. "And retains most of your improvements."

Anne, smiled. "At least it sounds as though the architect was up to the job, and the workers were good after all."

There was a pregnant pause before a tricky question was spoken. "Does a Lister still live there? Do you know?" Anne asked, almost like she didn't want to know the answer.

"That's safe to answer...isn't it?" Ginny suggested to her wife.

"I think it is," nodded Hermione. "A Lister was the last owner, from the Welsh branch of the family, as you intended. However, no one lives there now." _I'm going to have to stretch and twist things a little and not mention money troubles, _she thought. "The last Lister decided to leave it all to the country...as a place of historical importance, so it will never be allowed to go into disrepair."

"It has ever been a place of importance," said Anne, wistfully. "So many people thought it should be knocked down and replaced by a modern larger house, but I never wanted to do that."

"Then you have what you wished for," said Hermione, with a smile.

"How do you know I wanted the Welsh Listers to inherit?"

_Bugger! _Thought Hermione. "When...the last Lister...left it to the country it was mentioned in his wishes...how it came to him, from your will, I think," she said, only slightly haltingly. Anne nodded.

"Anyway," Ginny moved on. "We're in London. We can visit most things here. There isn't the danger here as much, because the London you knew is different to today. And it's a lot more populated and spread out."

"I think the estimation this year of London was a population of over seven million," added Hermione.

Anne's eyebrows rose. "That's...I'm not sure I can imagine it."

"I think I read once that the population of the whole of England and Wales in 1840 was about 9 million," the brunette said.

"Mind you, said Ginny "When we've taken the tube...trains that run underground in London...it sometimes feels like all seven million are in our carriage!"

"You showed me a picture of you outside your parliament," said Anne. "Could I see those new buildings?"

"Absolutely," said Hermione. "We were only in Westminster yesterday. I think it might be best to choose the taxi option for a first outing."

"Good idea," said Ginny.

"No negotiating ticket barriers, escalators, or the crush and balance needed for the tube. Plus, it gives us a bit more privacy and leisure."

"We can go now, unless you need a trip...somewhere," said Ginny, wanting to laugh about what Anne was doing in those rocks back at the monastery again.

"The water closet?" Anne asked, when she got a nod. "No need."

"There are a few little rules," said Hermione. "Don't accidentally wander out into the roads, and kind of take your cues from us; be prepared to see anything. It's not just how a person looks, or reacts, because most people in London couldn't care less and probably wouldn't notice - and there's all sorts here - but it's also for your safety."

"Understood. But if you know anything about my travels you will know I've traversed gorges and the most awkward of mountain passes in my time. I'm sure I can cope with roads...and odd people." said Anne. "Lead the way."

**A/N: It took a little while to decide on the place to find Anne again. Her diary in 1840 is occasionally fragmented and at other times overloaded; some from notes she wrote up later and in varying lengths of detail. So working with maps and guess-timates of distance and which days she was where and at what times and possible modern day names for places that match her descriptions, brought me to my choice of day and place in Georgia. There is more than one monastery in that area which could be the one she mentions, but either her spelling was way off, possibly writing it phonetically too, or some other factors, as I can't exactly line them up. So I went for geographical markers of rivers and roads etc, and chose the monastery at Mgvimevi, which matches her descriptions as best as I can tell, without studying Georgia a heck of lot deeper than I have time to. **

**The flea she killed in her 'drawers' is indeed in code and along with her call of nature not far from the monastery church in a cluster of rocks, and taking care of a certain ablution too. It's those little personal insights that make her diaries so entertaining and so human.**


	17. Chapter 17 Earning Her Spurs

Chapter Seventeen-"Earning Her Spurs"

Ginny led the way down the steps from the house in Victoria to the pavement, Anne was behind her and Hermione followed last, after pulling the door shut. Hermione was nearly to the pavement when a _whoosh_ of a black cab going past, caused Anne to fling back into her. It was probably a good thing the brunette was behind her and nearly caught her.

"I'm fine!" said Anne, straightening up.

"Well, surprise number one is out of the way," said Ginny drily.

They were all standing on the pavement now and every time a car or van went past, Anne flinched slightly, her hands in fists by her side, but within moments that reaction had subsided.

Hermione looked down the road and saw an available cab and stuck her hand out. She was aware that Anne was eyeing the taxi suspiciously, as it pulled up.

"Parliament Square," said Hermione, as Ginny opened the back door and got in, gesturing to Anne, then Hermione got in and closed the door. They thought this was the safest place for Anne to be in the middle with full round vision ahead and to the sides. They negotiated the seat belts.

"What's this?" Anne asked as it was fastened across her.

"It's the law, but for our own good too. It can save your life in an accident," said Hermione.

"Does that happen often?" asked Anne.

"I've never been in one," said Hermione, with Ginny agreeing. "But if we were, it stops you being thrown from the vehicle, within it or out of it."

"It goes that fast?" Anne queried.

"Probably not much in London, restricted to thirty or forty miles per hour, but out on other roads the law is seventy, but some people break it. A lot of cars can do a hundred miles an hour easily."

Anne was calculating it, while also trying to look at all the buildings and other traffic around them. "So you are saying that a...conveyance such as this, could travel fifty miles in one hour? The unit works literally how it appears, in these times?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Although an actual journey of fifty miles might vary in time, depending on traffic and different speed limit zones."

The taxi turned right onto a broader road. "Do you know where we are, right here?" asked Anne.

"I think we've turned onto Victoria Street," said Hermione. "Keep an eye out as we'll be close to Westminster Abbey soon."

In a few minutes, with only a couple of stoppages, they came to a point where the Abbey appeared on their right.

"There you go," said Ginny. "Something you should recognize."  
Anne leaned over Ginny slightly and looked at the magnificent old Abbey. "There she is," she said wistfully. Then she sat back slightly shocked.

"Anything wrong?" asked Ginny.

"The people," said Anne.

Once they had got nearer to the Abbey and towards Parliament Square, the throng of every day people and tourists were quite thickly spread.

"So many..."

In moments the cab stopped and they got out, and Hermione paid the driver.

Anne stood back and looked around, then she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "It doesn't smell like the middle of London. The Thames is just over there, I presume, but I can't really smell it."

"It's had a clean up since your day," said Hermione.

"Less turds floating in it," said Ginny.

"A lot less turds floating in it," agreed Hermione.

From a serious, contemplating expression, Anne gave a half smirk. "That would explain it."

They walked along the pavements and looking up, Anne got a proper look at Big Ben and it took her breath away, along with the architecture of the Houses of Parliament.

"Are you sure this was built in my near _future_?" asked Anne. "It looks far older...more..."

"Gothic," said Hermione. "It's supposed to." She tried to ignore the fact that this building would not be in Anne's future because she would already be gone. "It's Gothic Revival which the Victorians were obsessed with for a time."

"Five minutes to go," said Ginny, looking at the time on the clock face, then half chuckled. "You'll soon _hear_ Big Ben."

They continued walking and just as they were thinking of crossing the road, Hermione held them back and the chimes began, deafeningly close above them. Anne initially put a hand to her ear, but had a smile on her face. "I've heard many cathedral bells in my time, and this is quite impressive."

Ginny raised an eyebrow as if to say: _Only quite? _Which made Hermione have to bite her lip not to laugh.

The three women stood at a crossing and the lights changed and they walked across, having to explain road crossings while they did so, followed by explaining the Boudicca statue, which had caught Anne's eye as they walked past on to Westminster Bridge. She was then overwhelmed by the size of the London Eye big wheel over at the Embankment, with all the pods. When told to look closer she could see all the people in the pods.

"Is that something we could do?" asked Anne.

"Of course," said Ginny. "It's perfectly safe, too."

"Not afraid of heights?" asked Hermione.

"My dear girl, I've climbed mountains!" said Anne, in a superior tone.

"Just checking," said Hermione, amused.

They paused on Westminster Bridge and Anne sniffed again. "It's a little stagnant, now we're over it."

"It has a dirty pond smell, of course," said Ginny. "It just doesn't spread the smell over the whole city any more, or rarely."

They dawdled for a few minutes at a souvenir stall, looking at postcards and other tourist things. Hermione had to tell Anne that she couldn't keep anything if they bought something, because she couldn't take it back with her. She was fine with it. "What would I do with these things, anyway?" she said, practically.

Then, her eyes alighted to some of the postcards, she turned one of the holders and studied one of the pictures. She had the forethought to keep her voice low as she asked. "Is this the current Queen?"

"Yeah," said Hermione.

"She looks quite old? White hair?"

"She was eighty-two this year," said Hermione. "She still does long walks and rides out on a horse most days too. If she lives as old as her mother she might have another twenty years."

They walked on, away from the bundle of people around the stall. "So there was a Queen that lived past a hundred years old?" Anne asked, thoughtfully.

"Her mother, also an Elizabeth, was Queen Consort to King George VI," explained Hermione. "He died relatively young in 1952, so the current queen has reigned for fifty-six years and counting."

"And there were two more Georges?" Anne stated.

"And two more Edwards in between, Edward VIII being a slightly useless individual, and that could be said years before his questionable taste in women and politics became an issue, and so the throne went to his brother, the current queen's late father, which worked out best for the country." explained Hermione, then she laughed. "Ginny, I think Edward VIII would qualify for your analysis of 'inadequate crapness'!" The redhead grinned, reminded of their conversation the day before about Edward the Confessor.

After a bit more walking and a wait, the three women found themselves slowing rising into the air in a pod on the London Eye. Hermione watched Anne out of the corner of her eye, Ginny doing the same to gauge how she was coping with everything, but they need not have worried as she was absorbing everything, no longer eyeing other people strangely and more interested in the landscape before her. She pointed to a strangely shaped building to the north east of their location.

"The Gherkin," said Hermione. "Because it looks like a gherkin."

"Peculiar," said Anne.

This was immediately forgotten when she finally looked upon a heavy 747 airplane in the sky. She reached for Hermione's hand.

"All right?" asked Hermione.

"Checking I'm actually awake," said Anne, pointing to the huge hulk of a plane slowly descending.

"Passenger plane, heading for Heathrow Airport, going by the direction," said Hermione.

"How? How does it stay in the air?"

"I've asked that myself, when stuck on one," said Ginny, shaking her head.

"She's not a good air traveller," said Hermione. "Which is very strange when you consider her career choice."

"Not the same thing at all!" said Ginny.

"Sadly, we can't get you on one," said Hermione. "It involves too much identification and security protocols."

"No matter," said Anne, not sounding too disappointed. "Can one feel ill, travelling on them?"

"Sometimes," said Ginny. "If you get turbulence in the air, the plane can jig about a bit and that can be hard on the stomach."

Anne sighed. "Just as well, then. I'm not always good on a boat. Best left alone." As she looked more to the sky, instead of just at the buildings, she spotted other planes and even a helicopter, which had to be explained.

"Actually, Leonardo da Vinci invented one. It was found in his drawings and papers in the late fifteenth century," said Hermione. "About four-hundred years ahead of his time."

"Next you'll be telling me you can fly to the moon," said Anne, laughing.

"People _have _walked on it, the first time in 1969," said Hermione, enjoying the brief twitch in Anne's face and the narrowing of her eyes, trying to gauge if she was being made fun of. "There's an international space station in orbit in space, which usually has people working on it. It can be seen some nights, though I can't remember in which direction or place in the sky."

After a few minutes of silence, as Anne was still processing the information, they went back to pointing out buildings and districts they could see. Canada Square tower at Canary Wharf impressed her, but saying it was quite short compared to other skyscrapers in the world made her go quiet, as she stared at the tall building with the light flashing on the roof. On reaching the ground again and exiting, Hermione insisted on Anne experiencing a warm doughnut freshly made.

"I don't normally eat between breakfast and tea, sometimes not until supper," said Anne, unable to not try the delicious smelling and tasting bready sugary cake in her hand, nearly too warm to touch.

"That's what you do wrong," said Hermione. "Think of your body as a furnace and boiler."

"Overheated, sooty and with a big belly?!" said Ginny.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Take no notice of Miss Comedy. To keep the boiler...your body...ready for action, it needs fuel in the furnace. Food is fuel. If you run low, you lose energy and splutter and gutter out. It can make you feel ill if you try to be active with an empty stomach."

"I never want food when I'm being active, climbing or walking," said Anne, sceptically.

"It's not about want. Your body needs the fuel. We're not talking about a three course meal, but just little snacks and often," explained Ginny in a more serious tone.

"She's right," said Hermione, nodding. "Keeping her body in top condition is part of her job."

"Helps keep everything in order," said Ginny, hinting at bowel movements, without saying it, but Anne didn't seem to take the meaning, or deliberately avoided it.

After a little more walking and taking in various views, sitting and people watching and talking about this and that, giving Anne a taste of coca-cola, they got a taxi back to the house in Victoria.

On arriving back Anne did ask for the bathroom, and Hermione explained the handle flushing and the other fixtures. Ginny and Hermione went to the living room and flicked on the TV.

After several minutes Ginny whispered. "Do you think she's all right?"

"I assume we'd have heard a lump if she'd fainted," replied Hermione. "Or a lump if she'd escaped through the window. Although..."

"What?"

Hermione whispered even quieter. "In her diaries, she's sometimes on 'the pot' a long time."

"Hopefully the junk food will help that," said Ginny, grinning.

Some time later Anne appeared and quietly made her way into the room and sat on the comfortable sofa.

"Find everything?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. I..,err...," Anne hesitated. "I admit, I sat there looking at the...bathroom."

"Really?" Ginny said surprised.

"I've only seen something close to that at a rather affluent friend of mine in Richmond, even then it wasn't as...grandly finished."

"This is a fairly rich house," said Ginny. "But about normal for most houses in the bathroom level."

"I also confess the...flush you called it...was surprisingly loud and fast."

"So much better than a chamber pot or a cesspit, or the old style water closets which were never efficient," said Hermione. "You have to admit?"

"I will admit it, then," said Anne, amused, but she was finding it hard to focus as the television had really caught her eye. "Another item of progress?"

"Depends what you call progress," said Hermione. "There can be utter crap on there sometimes, but we can see news from all over the world as it happens. We can watch sports live on the other side of the world. It makes the world much smaller."

"It's definitely good for news," said Ginny.

They currently had Sky News on. Anne had sat forward and was squinting her eyes to read the ticker tape headlines running at the bottom of the screen. The picture then changed for an advert break.

"It's advertising, to get people to buy the products," explained Hermione. An advert for a perfume came on, with all the artistic raunchiness usual for the product. "Ginny calls those ones 'adverts for cat wee'."

"Cat wee?" Anne asked, not able to look away from the screen, although looking like she half didn't _want _to look at it either.

"Urine. Ginny thinks most perfumes end up smelling like fermented cat urine."

"Is that sort of...thing, normal?" asked Anne.

"Perfume that smells like cat urine?"

"The lack of clothes and self control?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's fairly normal," said Ginny. "That one is quite tame, as it's day time still."

"They get _worse_?"

"The programmes and content can be more adult after 9pm."

After watching some more news and feeling amused by Anne's reaction to a detailed weather forecast with satellite images, it was early evening and Hermione asked. "Is there something you would like for dinner or supper?"

"I don't know. I was wondering if you would surprise me again."

"Neither Ginny nor I can cook very well ourselves..."

"No, cooking was never one of my skills," said Anne.

"But being here, we literally have the choice of anything. Take away brought back here would be best tonight. So, from fish and chips, to pizza, pasta, Chinese, curry, and anything in between," said Hermione.

"Which is less harsh on the stomach?" asked Anne.

"Probably fish and chips. It's fish in batter, fried, and chips are fried potatoes cut into sticks. But there's a choice of fish too; cod, haddock, plaice, skate...whatever you like?"

"What do you two normally have?"

"Cod," said Ginny.

"Then that's fine for me," said Anne.

"I'll go," said Ginny. "I'll go to our usual place."

Hermione went to the drawer that contained the travel cards and handed a credit card to Ginny, and kissed her on the cheek before the redhead left. She then moved to the kitchen area; the house had both a proper dining room and a luxurious lounge but she and Ginny preferred the less formal open area that encompassed all they needed from the house.

"Is that card you handed over, a form of money?" Anne asked, having watched the exchange closely.

"It's a credit card. So you have a unique number and a PIN code – a four-digit number – to identify it's the correct person using it, and anything you buy with it, goes on to that account and you then have to pay it. It's like a loan. If you don't pay in full at the end of the month you then have interest added on."

"So, err...forgive me for asking, but are you short of money?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"If you're using a...form of loan, for food?"

"No. It's just easier to use than cash. And that particular card belongs to the owner of the house, he always leaves a couple here for guests to use and insists we use them...it's part of his way of doing things. Makes it look like he lives here more than he does, if you see what I mean?"

"For tax?" asked Anne.

"We assume so. Or he's just generous. He _is_ generous, but I suppose he helps us and we're sort of helping him back."

"That card can be traced?"

"Yeah, to the exact time and place it was used. It logs on a computer."

"But if the card is his, won't people you try to pay know it isn't him using it?"

"We always have the PIN code. He's not very imaginative, he always picks the year we're in as the four-digit code."

"In some ways things are very different and yet they're still the same," said Anne thoughtfully, as Hermione got out placemats, coasters, put plates warming and got out cutlery. She brought herself back to the moment. "Anything I can help with?"

"Absolutely not," said Hermione, smiling. "You're our guest."

"To be honest I'm not very skilled domestically at all," said Anne. "That's what maids and footmen are for."

"Very few people have servants these days, except royalty and a few really rich people, with more money than they know what to do with. I've never been comfortable with the idea of servants."

Hermione asked what Anne wanted to drink, from beer to wine, and chose a white wine. Ginny wasn't that long and they were soon all sat around eating fish and chips.

"I do believe a friend of mine had something like this at Whitby not long ago...in my time," said Anne. "It looks like something she described."

"Even now, Whitby has a reputation as one of the best fish and chips places in the country," said Hermione. "Your friend might have had a pioneering first glimpse of it."

Later they had some hot chocolate and then Hermione helped Anne choose a nightshirt and made up some more clothes for her, for the next day. Briefly having to explain the electric lights and how to work them, actually enjoying the sense of wonder she was watching. She showed her the little ensuite bathroom attached to her room, which Anne was impressed with and at how fluffy the towels were.

When Anne came out of the bathroom in her nightshirt, looking suspiciously at the underwear she had taken off, but never remembered putting on, Hermione had to explain those also. She saw that Anne had everything she needed and was about to leave her, when Anne grasped her hand. "Talk with me a little while, if you're able to?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course."

Anne made herself comfortable sitting on the bed back against the headboard and patted the place beside her. When the brunette sat there, she held her hand again.

"I never thought I'd see you and Ginny ever again," she said. "Life can be full of surprises."

"We weren't sure, but it sort of became possible recently, so I thought I'd try, if we could...," Hermione said, trying not to say anything about the diaries, but feeling more under pressure by the next question.

"Where did you read about my travels, to know where I was? Is it in a book?"

"Not exactly," Hermione answered carefully. "A record of some papers were preserved in Halifax library archives. They're not available to everyone, but I was doing research in there a lot lately and came upon them."

"Research? On what?"

"For my job. Tracking down family lines and ancestry of potentially rogue witches and wizards."

"So you _did_ change your job?"

"Yes. I do go to the school to give guest lectures and presentations every so often, but I'm no longer a full time professor."

"What is your profession title, now?"

"Nothing officially, but Ginny's brother calls me a 'special agent'," Hermione laughed softly. "I actually work alongside my sister-in-law Fleur, and he calls her that too."

"Fleur? Is she French?"

"Yes, but her English is so good you can hardly detect an accent."

"Eight years is a long time," Anne sighed. "But...but, I did find love, of a sort."

"Miss Walker?" Hermione asked as vaguely as she could.

"Yes."

"I told you you'd find someone."

"You also told me it might not be perfect. And it is far from perfect...so far from it that it became apparent not long after we..._sealed_ our...companionship, about six years ago," Anne sighed again.

"You're still with her...," offered Hermione.

"Yes."

"There must be some affection, then. She's not left you either."

"She's spoken of it. I've suggested it. Might we not be better off as we were...apart?" Anne took a deep breath. "She'll go days without speaking to me, and days when she goes _at_ me and gets worked up over the slightest little thing. Her temper is all wrong...so very...," Anne's breath caught as she fought a losing battle with tears. "And yet, she can be so good, so loving, so receptive. How will it all end? I know not."

Hermione wasn't sure how her comforting would be accepted after eight years, but gingerly put her arm around Anne, and not finding resistance, brought her closer.

"There _is_ love there," said Hermione. "It's obvious there's love there, from you both. Sometimes the ones we love are also the ones we argue with most, or are even completely opposite to. There is no perfect relationship, no identical one either."

"When she is on a good day, she is very good. She's amazed me with how well she's travelled lately, despite how she was so reluctant at times before. I wish she was consistent...a consistent, constant companion."

There was so much Hermione knew and so much she knew that she couldn't say, her mind trying to conjure up a way to approach things.

"We've talked that we may part when we get back from this trip," said Anne, controlling her breathing, and wiping her cheeks.

"Don't rush anything," said Hermione. "Your Miss...Walker..."

"Ann."

"Your Ann, sounds like someone that we would diagnose as having depression and anxiety, in this time period," the brunette carefully ventured. "There are things that can be done, like medicines and tablets, but a lot can be done with changing thinking and using breathing exercises, and talking. Talking _with_ her, not _at_ her."

"And you think that's something I might be doing, talking at her?"

"I know enough to know that is something you do," said Hermione. She squeezed Anne's shoulder to soften her words. "You have survived as the person you are by striding forward and getting things done your way, regardless of the norms your society would try to impose on you. If you weren't that way, you would never be who you are, but it sometimes takes others a while to get used to, or they never really understand it. It doesn't mean they love you less, though. But to Ann, you might be as awkward to talk to as you find her, when she's not on a good day."

"Hmm," Anne sighed again and sat back up.

"Is that a 'hmm' of stupid modern woman doesn't have a clue what she's talking about? Or 'hmm' she may have a valid point?" asked Hermione trying to keep things light.

"A bit of both, but I'm leaning to the latter."

"I suppose it really comes down to thinking hard about whether, when you wake up in the morning...back there in your time...whether you would miss her if she wasn't there?" Hermione broached. "And more importantly, if she wasn't with you in three days time, or a week's time. Could you live without her, for good? Live without her being yours?"

"Hmm."

"I have reduced the great Anne Lister to monosyllabic grunts," Hermione joked.

"I don't always have words when in deep thought." Anne turned and looked at Hermione. "What you said about anxiety and depression; I seem to remember, is that not what you have?"

"Yes," replied the brunette, in almost a sigh. "I'm better than when you last saw me. I went back to all the things that helped me before and it isn't as bad now."

"Is it cured?"

"No. It can never be completely cured, but you learn to live with it, accept it and reduce the power it has over you," Hermione explained. "Talking to you helped me more than once, so I thank you for that." She hadn't told her just how important it was been to her and had decided to keep it light.

Anne held Hermione's hand and brought it to her lips to kiss the knuckles. Then leaned over and placed a gentle peck of a kiss on her lips. "I regret that I can give you no more than that courtesy," said Anne. "I'm joined with Ann, and promised to be with no other."

"I know. I don't expect it," said Hermione, knowing full well that, other than a little flirting, Anne had remained faithful to Ann for all the time they were together, apart from one strange episode not completely of her own making involving Mariana Lawton. She had many thoughts and still fantasized over Mariana, even while on their travels in 1840, but she never actually acted on those thoughts. And it was highly unlikely that Ann Walker was a Ginny, that would encourage anything, which still made Hermione shake her head bemused.

"I won't be hasty," said Anne, not appearing to suspect anything. "We'll see how things are when we get back to Shibden."

_You won't get back to Shibden, alive, only in a box,_ thought Hermione, glumly. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't.

Anne flipped open her pocket watch. "I'd better let you get back to Ginny."

"You'll be all right? I'll stay if you want me to."

"I'll be fine. I'm quite tired, and I can do some thinking until I drift off."

"If you need anything give a shout or come find us...we're across the landing."

Anne nodded. "Goodnight...can I call you by your real name?"

"There isn't the danger now, but you must never write it down, still."

"Of course. Goodnight...Hermione."

"Night, Anne. See you tomorrow."

Hermione made her way back to hers and Ginny's room, closed the door behind her and slid under the sheets. Ginny had dozed off, but woke. "Talking, were you?" she asked with amusement.

"Yeah, just talking. She didn't mess around after marrying Ann Walker," Hermione said seriously, keeping her voice low. "She just wanted a friend to talk to, because she loves Ann, but finds her more than difficult. We knew she'd been wondering about splitting from her nearly as soon as they had sealed their partnership."

"What about Ann Walker finding _her_ difficult? Does she think of that?"

"I tried to subtly suggest it," said Hermione. "They do love each other, as I can't see how two people so supposedly wrong would stick out six years together, eight years if you count their courtship."

"Anne's controlling the money..."

"Yes, but that's not legally binding, Ann passes along money to her, but they could never pass money control to Anne like a husband and wife thing back then. The only thing they could do was alter their wills. But Ann doesn't like how Anne Lister throws the money around. This travelling they're doing takes a huge chunk out of their funds." Hermione took a deep breath. "By the time Ann Walker dies she's hardly got anything left...to her name." Hermione felt so sad again and she failed this time to hold back and gulped.

"Hey, hey," said Ginny, feeling Hermione shudder with emotion and wrapped her arms around her.

"It's so silly and...I know...I know I'm beating myself with a stick I made, but...," she hitched her breath a few times before continuing. "It was all I could do not to cry when she spoke about getting back to Shibden...she gets back, but not alive..."

"I know, my love." Ginny held her wife and pressed kisses to her cheeks and neck. "It's okay. We knew these things. We knew things might be difficult."

"It's me," said Hermione a little while later, when she was breathing calmly again.

"What's you?"

"Death. I hate death."

"I'm sure none of us are fans of it, particularly."

"I'm scared of it. I shouldn't be but I am," Hermione took some extra breaths again, struggling. "I'm scared of dying and leaving you. I think that's part of my recent troubles. Surrounded by death and wills and wishes, it's hard not to think about it."

Ginny felt tears well in her own eyes. "We can't know what's going to happen, in our case. We can only reach it when and if we ever get to that horrible day. You have to know I don't want to leave you, ever, either."

"I don't know what I was thinking...I thought I was giving Anne something. All I'm doing is sending her back to her death...hardly eight weeks from the day we found her," Hermione paused before continuing. "It would be so easy to get her some medicine. Vaccinate her against typhoid and some of the other things that might have attacked her. Give her malaria tablets, and something that would help her fight most illnesses."

"We can't, you_ know_ we can't," said Ginny. "Besides, it might not work. What if she escapes disease only to die in a carriage accident from one of those scary mountain passes you spoke of from the diaries. Or rogue cossacks kill her? Or some other bandits? All that trouble and it still wouldn't work."

"It makes me feel sadistic and selfish."

"You're not. You genuinely wanted to see how she'd react to our time and as far as I can see she's enjoyed it so far. Let's take that. We gave her all these experiences that she never would have had. She got to see that life goes on, way beyond her own times, and that Shibden Hall still stands as does London and a multitude of the rapidly breeding population!"

Hermione gave a little laugh at that. "It's me, still, really. Trying to fix something."

"It might be sad to our minds," said Ginny. "But truly, nothing was broken in the first place. Anne's life is the way it is - the way it was - and it's _her_ life."

XXXXXXXX

Next morning Ginny got up first, showered and went downstairs while Hermione took her shower.

"Oh," she nearly coughed out. Anne was sitting on the sofa watching TV. She turned round at the sound.

"Sorry."

"What about?" asked Ginny.

"I should have asked...to use this...equipment."

"No, you can do whatever you like here," said Ginny. "I'm kind of surprised how quickly you learned how to use it. My own mother can hardly turn the old TV set she has, on and off."

Anne smiled. "I usually learn things fairly quickly, even things that would appear completely foreign to me."

"Want a tea or coffee?" the redhead asked. "Or anything to...eat..." Ginny tailed off as Anne picked up a mug that had steam still rising from it.

"I like that kettle," said Anne. "Ingenious. I'm assuming it has an internal thermometer?"

"Err...not sure, I suppose it does."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to teabags, there's something so lacking and improper about it, but the novelty of them is amusing," Anne was rather enjoying the look of surprise on Ginny's face. "I'll eat something a little later."

"Right," Ginny said, then nearly shook her head. "Did you sleep all right?"

"Yes, once I was able to stop thinking. I was up much earlier than I would be, but I suppose I've had some kind of time disturbance, still living in the time I came from."

"I'm sure that can happen." Ginny went and got a glass of orange juice then returned to Anne.

"I did try a shower, so fast and refreshing. The controls so intuitive. I will say the water issue is a huge improvement on what I left at Shibden."

"As long as you found everything?"

"Enough towels for an army," said Anne, sipping her tea. "Huge and so soft too."

"Actually, the towels are pretty fantastic in this house," Ginny agreed, then gestured to the TV. "So, watch anything that interested you?"

"All of it interested me," said Anne. "Some things were rather shocking."

"It shouldn't be too bad, it's only morning TV." said Ginny.

"The clothing...or lack of, especially the women."

"Well, you must have seen some of that when we were out and about yesterday?"

"To be honest, I tried to block out a lot of things I saw in that regard," said Anne with her quirk of a smile. "This morning, however...talking animals and moving drawings...those I can't decide if I should be concerned about or entertained."

"The 'moving drawings' are cartoons. Aimed at children, but most people will watch them, for some light entertainment. And the talking animals...that would be something called 'special effects', all created on computers...machines...that then get placed into the film, so they look real. The technology gets better and better for that. Hermione would probably know a bit more than me..."

"About what?" said Hermione as she walked in.

"Special effects on movies and stuff," said Ginny, who then explained what they had been talking about.

"Yeah, they're getting so good with making things look real," said Hermione. "Although, I don't really know much more about it, only that I like some of the films using it."

They had breakfast together, with Anne trying a taste of a couple of different cereals but opting for toast.

"I know I can't go there," said Anne. "But do you have a...picture of Shibden as it looks now?"

"No," said Hermione, then thinking about it and deciding that a photo wouldn't do much harm. "I can show you one, give me moment."

Hermione got her laptop from her beaded bag, flipped it open and searched for Shibden photos, hoping that she could find an image that didn't have a related article about its most famous owner. She scanned through the images and found some on a site that was mapping the UK in photos using geographic Ordnance Survey points. She moved her chair closer to their guest, so the laptop was almost in front of Anne, and showed her the screen.

"Ah," said Anne, sounding as if her voice had caught in her throat a little. She actually reached out and touched the screen. "The tower got completed. Not bad...but it does look a little lopsided...perhaps I should have had one developed on the other end?"

"You can't," said Hermione immediately. _Eight weeks left, but that's still time for her to send a letter with another order to her architect, _she thought, cautiously. "It is how it is. You can't change anything."

"No...I know. Thinking out loud," said Anne, then pointed to a line under the photo. "What's that number mean?"

"It's a grid reference for the maps made by the Ordnance Survey, for all over the UK. The aim is to get every grid reference photographed, or certainly all the items of interest," said Hermione.

"Could I see a map of the area? I remember the ones you showed me back then, but a modern one?"

"Sure," said Hermione, as she opened Google Earth. "Do you want a plain map, or to see the actual area from the sky?"

"Both are interesting, but if I can see the actual terrain..."

"Here we go," said Hermione. She had brought up the area they had roughly seen on the old maps, and dragging her fingers on the touchpad she zoomed in slightly. Anne watching her every move and studying the pictures of the land she knew best as they appeared now.

"A lot more houses and much wider roads, and good lord...is that a railway track?" Anne asked, animated. "It's cut a scar through the land!"

"Yeah, looks like it. Well, we know so, because Ginny and I have been on it and arrived at Halifax station, back in 1943, but we've been there."

"There were rumblings of a line being built before we left Shibden...in our time," said Anne. "Perhaps it is the future."

"They're a lot faster than trains from your time, and no longer steam, but to be honest we have a lot less stations and lines than Britain did in say 1870."

"I move the map like this?" Anne asked as she waggled her thumb and finger in a pincer movement, hovering over the touchpad.

"Yeah," said Hermione. "To zoom in, or drag across to move around. Move and tap the arrow over an area if you want to see the name of something"

Anne scrolled right from Shibden and tapped on some of the markers to read the building names, seeming to get the idea of using the online map fairly quickly. "I don't see a big sign for either Cliffe Hill or Crow Nest. Not where they should be..."

"Err...," Hermione hesitated. "Well..."

"Oh," said Anne, nodding her head. "Gone?"

"The former has been sort of converted, as much as I know, and the latter kind of fell into decay over a number of years and was finally demolished."

Anne actually laughed, more a breathy silent kind, but she was beguiled all the same, then shook her head when she saw the confused looks from her two hosts. "Ann, she is always worrying and fussing about those places, making sure they are well kept and properly maintained. And it would seem all was for nought."

"You can't tell her that when you go back," said Ginny. "Seriously...please don't say anything."

The amusement faded. "Of course not," replied Anne. "I wouldn't do that to her, anyway. It would be cruel."

Ginny and Hermione were experiencing a collective 'phew!' moment and looked at each other with an expression of relief.

"And all these symbols and times down the side?" Anne asked, pointing to the screen again.

"That's if you want directions to get there," said Hermione, "It helps people plan their journey for time, driving there or whatever."

"Talking of time," said Ginny. "What would you like to do today?"

"I saw most of the buildings I'd ever need to see yesterday," said Anne. "Are there any innovations? Any place that would stretch my mind?"

"A museum?" said Hermione.

"That sounds promising," said Anne.

"What about things like history. Things that have been found on archaeological digs and some of the greatest finds in the past century or more?" the brunette offered.

"Now, that does sound very interesting," said their guest, her eyes brightening up.

"I know you'd probably prefer a medical museum, but the best places for that are harder to get into and sometimes restricted to students, whereas the British Museum is huge, and it can be walked through at leisure and it's free," said Hermione.

"Take me there, then. I went there a couple of times in the past, I'd like to see it in this time," said Anne, then she tilted her head on one side. "Could we use your underground trains to get there? It has intrigued me since you mentioned them."

"We can do, but it will be a bit more tricky...more intense," said Hermione.

"Tricky or difficult is not something that puts me off," said Anne, adamantly.

"You'll just have to watch what we do and follow what we do with ticket barriers and things," said Ginny.

A while later they crossed a road over to Victoria station. They had looked at the underground and knowing Anne was fine with walking, had decided to keep things simple and take the Victoria Line to Oxford Circus and walk from there, rather than change lines to get only a little closer. A taxi was always an option for a short ride.

The owner of the house in Victoria always had several Oyster cards in a drawer for people to use, and Hermione took three with them, so at least she didn't have to battle with a ticket machine.

Anne was looking around them, as they entered the busy main area of Victoria station, with the usual frequent updates on trains from the loud speakers, with the usual unintelligible muffled voice that barely made sense, and the multitude of flickering information boards.

They walked down a couple of flights of steps and approached the ticket barrier, with Hermione telling Anne to watch Ginny in front of her, and follow her, so she knew where to put her card, reclaim it and go through the barrier. The activity was accomplished with no issue, with all parties impressed.

Approaching an escalator, Hermione explained that the staircase moved and to follow Ginny and then she would follow Anne. The latter looked at the stream of people, and the moving staircase itself she eyed with great suspicion, but all the same, took in the detail of how people kind of walked onto it in a rhythm of sorts. Ginny stepped out onto to it and by instinct Anne followed, she wobbled slightly, as the step took form beneath her feet, but Hermione behind her put a hand to her side and steadied her.

With no real view to appreciate on the way down, Anne looked at the posters on the walls, but frowned as they all hung wonky from the gradient, and had to look away. Hermione leaned forward and said. "I forgot to say 'don't look at the posters' to try and balance. They make it worse. Anyway, we're nearly at the bottom, copy Ginny again, watch her feet."

Anne studied Ginny's feet and saw her step forward and onto the non-moving ground, but she herself was a little slow to react and kind of scuffed her feet on the stopping plate, Ginny grabbed her arm and made sure she was clear and stayed upright, but she looked back as Hermione got off, wondering how she got her timing wrong.

"You nearly got it right," said Hermione.

"I will next time," said Anne, confidently. "Now I know what it entails."

"And your verdict.?" asked Ginny.

"What? On the moving stairs? Fun, but a little unnerving."

The three women were on the northbound platform and only a few minutes had passed before the train arrived, the doors opening and Hermione, Ginny and Anne getting on and managing to find a free couple of seats, which Ginny insisted her wife and Anne take. "I rather like using my balance training when standing on these things," she said.

The train rattled and screeched its way along through the darkness, stopping at Green Park after a few minutes.

"What the devil is that 'Mind the gap' thing all about?" asked Anne.

"Making sure people step on and off the trains carefully," replied Hermione, as the train rattled into motion again.

"It's rather annoying!" said Anne.

"We'll be the next stop," said Ginny.

"Already?" Anne was surprised, and even more so when the lights on the platform for Oxford Circus came into view.

Having negotiated ticket barriers and steps and stairs again, they walked out into the sunshine and shade of Oxford Circus, straight into the bustle of one of the busiest areas of London.

"All right to walk, or take a taxi?" Hermione asked Anne.

"I'd like to walk," said Anne, looking at a map they passed on the wall. "I've been to this area before...back then, a few times, more towards Bond Street, there weren't many shops on Oxford Street then, certainly not like this."

The women then had a pleasant leisurely walk along Oxford Street, even going into a few shops for Anne to look at the types of things sold, from clothing to music, to eateries to department stores, all with the unending traffic of people on the pavements and the various sounds: taxis, buses and loud stereo music from some of the shops.

They stopped at a sportswear shop with various equipment on show, from tennis rackets to cricket bats, football boots to swimwear. There were current football shirts for most of the top Premier League teams and London based clubs. The double doors were wide open and they were about to have a look inside at the things nearest to the doors, when Ginny turned and saw someone she recognized walking up the pavement.

"Shit!" Ginny said, then talked out of the side of her mouth for Hermione. "Incoming at three o'clock!"

Hermione vaguely turned and nearly froze because there was Jane Howard walking towards them.

"Shit!" Hermione said under her breath. "Ginny, take Anne inside, so she's not face to face with her. She must _not_ see Anne."

"Problem?" asked Anne, not turning around, as Ginny steered her into the sports shop.

"That girl we came to find last year. She's now approaching."

"She wasn't punished much if she's free less than a year later," said Anne, astonished.

"That bit doesn't matter, what _does_ matter is that she knows you. She can't see you, because we would be...in deep shhh..." Ginny cut off as Jane started talking to Hermione behind them.

She got Anne to look at some shelves of football accessories, scarves, hats and pennants, so she was turned, with her back to where Hermione stood near the door. Ginny was hoping they would only be stuck a little while, but she heard her name spoken.

She quickly picked up a Tottenham Hotspur baseball cap, which had 'Spurs' on the front and the club badge of a cockerel, and rammed it on Anne's head and pulled the peak forwards. "I'm no great judge but yes, I think it does suit you," Ginny said a bit more loudly, then whispered. "Don't look round." The redhead walked over to Hermione and Jane.

"Hello, Ginny," Jane said. "I didn't expect to find you here." She lowered her voice. "No quidditch gear in this place?"

"Err, no," said Ginny, while thinking, _bugger, bugger, bugger!_ She thought of something to add to it. "I like to see what other sports are doing with equipment and merchandise. I'm thinking of trying a few items."

"Makes sense," said Jane.

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked Ginny, smiling and trying to make out she didn't have a care in the world.

"Oh, I'm supposed to be patrolling...sort of," said the younger woman.

"Anything in particular?" asked Hermione, then getting that cold feeling in her veins, the sort when trying to cover something up that hadn't yet been mentioned, but was biting away at her internal organs, making her feel even more guilty.

"Anything unusual, that kind of thing," said Jane. "It's mostly only training."

"We all have to start somewhere," said Hermione. "So is anyone close by keeping an eye on you?"

"Ron and Bill Weasley are in the area," Jane replied. "It's not just me doing this scouting work, a couple of others are around here too."

"The training time will fly by and you'll forget all the boring bits," said Hermione.

"I'd better let you go," said Jane. "I heard from Bill, that you're on holiday this week?"

"Yes. A few days of doing something normal, meeting up with old friends and relaxing," said Hermione.

"I'll let you get back to your shopping," said Jane. "Enjoy the rest of your week."

"You too...hope the training isn't too boring," said Ginny, while thinking, _Go, go...piss off!_

Jane turned and walked off along the pavement and Ginny and Hermione's shoulders visibly dropped with the tension they had been holding, and they walked over to Anne.

"Is it safe?" Anne whispered.

"For now. Although, I'm thinking...," said Hermione, eyeing Anne, tilting her head. "I think the hat should stay..."

"Might be wise," said Ginny, "All we need is Jane being too efficient."

"I've got to keep wearing this strange hat?" asked Anne.

"Oh, don't tell me you're an Arsenal fan?!" said Ginny, grinning. Then with confusion on Anne's face she explained. "You're wearing a hat supporting the football team Spurs and their big north London rival team is Arsenal. I mean it's okay if you want an Arsenal hat instead?"

"No, this will do," said Anne sighing. "It makes me look like a duck or kind some of wading bird."

"Baseball caps make everyone look like ducks," said Ginny.

Hermione looked around to check they weren't being watch by the wrong set of eyes and took the cap from Anne and went and paid for it, before removing the tag and placing it on Anne's head again. "It keeps the sun out of your eyes, at least."

"And that makes looking like a member of the avian family all worthwhile?!" said Anne, flatly.

"Was that _sarcasm_?" asked Hermione. "You've _really_ been around us too long! Ginny's really rubbed off on you."

"I haven't been rubbing off on Anne or anyone else," said Ginny, with a dead straight face. She couldn't hold it though, and burst out laughing. Anne actually rolled her eyes, and shook her head, with an expression that spoke volumes.

"That _was_ very vulgar," said Hermione, in agreement with the thought she knew must have gone through Anne's mind. "Honestly, I can't say anything some days, without little Miss Innuendo twisting it!" She shook her own head as if tut-tutting about her wife, which made Ginny chuckle under her breath.

With no further incident, but being carefully observant, they finally approached the British Museum; Anne stopped and soaked in the view of the front of the complex with its classical-looking portico. "It doesn't look much different to how I remember it, a bit of a different setting around it, though, and much bigger, somehow."

Several minutes later they were in a large foyer, with Hermione looking at a plan of the museum.

"What shall we see first?" asked Anne.

"Iron Age," said Hermione. "I think this will interest you."

"Iron Age?" wondered Ginny.

"Snettisham Hoard," the brunette replied.

"Oh! Yeah, that's pretty spectacular," the redhead nodded.

They made their way to the right area; despite the museum having a steady stream of people in and out, the area they were in wasn't too busy. Hermione spied the cases she wanted to start on and led them over.

The cases they stood in front of showed the most magnificent gold torcs, rings and other pieces, all delicately woven in solid gold. Anne was impressed and read the description cards.

"So these are real?" she asked, in a low voice. "They're not representations?"

"Completely real," answered Hermione. "The first lot was found in the 1940s by a farmer ploughing his fields in the Snettisham area of Norfolk, therefore making them Iceni in nature. They can date most of them, but they appear to be pre-Roman conquest, and before Boudicca set up her revolt."

"The working is magnificent," said Anne, studying the items as close as the glass would allow her, without actually pressing her nose to it. "I've seen some fine pieces recently in Russia, but nothing quite like this."

"It's been said that some of the beading work and twisting, can't be recreated by modern jewellers and goldsmiths," said Hermione. "Either it's the type of gold, or a technique that is specialist to the people that made them back then."

"The necklace that saved me, more than once," said Ginny, also in a low voice. "Was said to be connected to Boudicca. It didn't look like this, but was known as the necklace of Andrasta."

"Celtic goddess, reputedly," said Anne, a little condescendingly.

"Yes, her," said Ginny. "Whatever its true history, that necklace saved me. Obviously it didn't save Boudicca."

"Where do you keep it?" asked Anne.

"Somewhere safe, out of sight and out of mind," said Ginny, knowing it was in the concealed compartment of the desk in the study at Godric's Hollow.

"Well, someone acted almost like she _was_ wearing it again last year," said Hermione, sarcastically.

"I didn't think to pack it," replied Ginny. "It's not like it was in the job description."

"When is anything we've ever done like that, in the job description?" Hermione echoed a conversation they had had in 1832 while looking at a body.

Ginny gave her a sickly sweet smile in return. "I'll remember next time, okay?"

Among the other exhibits, they showed Anne the Sutton Hoo items and spent a few hours wandering and looking at the cases, and loving to be so close to Egyptian sarcophagi that you could brush your hands over them. Some items Anne remembered seeing in her own time, like the Rosetta Stone, but it made it even more interesting to see again and to watch Anne viewing them. They had stopped for light refreshments and then looked at some more areas, before tiredly and reluctantly leaving. They took a taxi to Oxford Circus and the tube back to Victoria, with Anne managing much better with the escalator than before, not at all disconcerted by not being able to see the top until it was almost reached.

"I could get used to that," said Anne, smiling back at Hermione as the brunette stepped off.

The three women were a little tired when they arrived back, and after Hermione finally let Anne take off the Spurs cap, she then ordered some pizza and other bits and pieces for their main meal, and they talked over their day.

"Travel is so easy here," said Anne. "Of course, it takes some getting used to and I imagine if it's much busier than we had, on a hot day, it's probably unpleasant, but the speed and...everything makes sense, how it goes from one place to another almost as straight as those map lines on the train walls."

"It's not always very cheap, especially for longer distances, but I suppose it's efficient, when it works and when it hasn't got the frequent ridiculous reasons for delays," Hermione agreed.

"The cost of visiting Russia and going to the Caucasus would possibly shock you," said Anne, in a reflective mood. "When one has to pay not only for accommodation and mode of travel, but also for guides and helpers of one sort or another...well, I fear it is a once in a lifetime thing."

Later in the evening, after everyone had showered and were ready for their respective beds for the night, Hermione dropped in on Anne.

"Thank you for today," Anne said. "It was so nice to see everything, however strange some things were. Sometimes there's nothing better than having all the senses assaulted by new and odd things, even of the unpleasant sort. It's invigorating."

"Even the Spurs cap?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that was less than invigorating, but it had a purpose, so was easy to endure."

"We enjoyed today, too," said Hermione, looking a little down.

"And tomorrow is my last day here, I assume?"

"Did we mention it before?"

"You _did_ say I was here for a day or two when you found me, and we've had two days here already, but your face tells me that you have something to say that you don't want to. Often it's when you _can't_ say something," Anne explained.

"I didn't think I was that obvious."

"You're not, but you don't live to be me, with my life, without gauging people's expressions and body language. It doesn't mean I always get it right, but I get more right than wrong."

"Of course," nodded Hermione. "Yes, tomorrow is the last day. But we have a whole day, if there's anything you would like to see and do here?"

"This will sound...err...strange," began Anne. "Is there anywhere we could view those...airplanes...lifting from the ground and landing?"

"Seriously?" asked Hermione.

"I'm always serious."

"I mean, that's what you really want to do?"

"Well...yes...it looks almost magical...yet...you tell me those aren't magical?"

"No, just engineering and technology." Hermione paused. "I think we can go to Heathrow Airport and there are places to view from there."

"So, that would be possible?"

"Absolutely."

Anne patted the place next to her on the bed, the offer to which Hermione accepted.

"What would have happened had that girl seen and recognized me?"

"Here we would call it 'the shit hitting the fan'." Hermione laughed at Anne's quizzical expression. "We could have been in a lot of trouble, if she recognized you, and she was always diligent and observant despite her poor choices."

"So I'll have to wear the hat again tomorrow?"

"Not necessarily, but I'll pack it in case we need it."

Reaching for and holding Hermione's hand, Anne said, "Hermione, I never forgot about you, after you left all those years ago."

"I've never forgotten about you," the brunette replied. "You're not easy to forget, nor would I want to."

That made Anne laugh. "You're not the first to have said it."

"I may not be the last either."

"I want to ask you something," Anne said, her face serious again. "If you can't answer it for whatever reasons I will understand, but don't lie, just say you can't tell me."

Hermione nodded. "All right."

"_Did_ you know about Ann Walker and that she and I would be together...in a deeper sense, before I told you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"A feeling that it wasn't surprising news. Like you knew, already."

"Yes. I knew."

"How?"

"That's a more difficult question. It's a scattering of papers and things that kind of point to that being the case. That she's often mentioned as a companion of yours...like...when laying the foundation stone of the casino. Knowing what I know, it had to be. I didn't want to say anything, and wasn't sure it was right to; not just from the time-travel stance, but also because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable either. I definitely didn't want to influence you in any way before you had even got together with her."

"Ah." Anne sighed. "Did you know that it would be difficult? Is that what you were trying to prepare me for?"

"I sort of guessed it would be difficult, but also that it would kind of work in some way too."

"That's a complicated assessment," Anne nodded. "But I think there is truth in it. I will see how things are when...when I, _we_, get back to Shibden. I won't be hasty over my decision about...her."

"I think you would really miss her if she wasn't there," said Hermione, delicately.

"It's the almost humourous situation of not wanting her when she is there, and missing her when she isn't."

"We all think like that, sometimes" admitted Hermione.

"Really? There are days when you don't want Ginny there?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "It doesn't usually last, and sometimes it's not even if we've had a disagreement or anything, I think it's a very human thing, to want solitude sometimes; a little area and slice of time to ourselves, completely by ourselves, listening only to our own heartbeat, pleasing only ourselves on our own course of action, even if it's just for a half an hour."

"I think that might describe me," said Anne. "I need space to think, to be with my own thoughts, even if they are not particularly productive thoughts."

"Tell Ann that," said Hermione. "Say you sometimes need time alone. She does too, from what you said about silences. If you tell her, then she might not get so moody about it and realize it's not just her that might have annoyed you, but that you just need a bit of space."

"You think Ann would understand that?"

"Well...I...err...don't know her," said Hermione, having to make sure she kept at a distance. "From what you told me, I'm sure if you explained it. There is another thing..."

"What?"

"She's probably scared of losing you." Hermione almost swore, because there was a double meaning there, and she most certainly didn't want to focus on the finality of loss by death.

"I haven't...had...err...infidelities since I have been with her."

"No, that's not the point." Hermione brought her other hand round so she clasped Anne's in both of hers. "You are such an amazing woman. You're intelligent, witty, captivating. Everyone who meets you are transfixed, either by your personality, or countenance, or both. People don't forget you and probably clamour to get more time with you, flirt and so on. Ann might be afraid that someone will come along whom will take her place. I expect she's insecure, especially if she's suffered with anxiety and depression over the years."

"I suppose it could be something she might think." Anne looked Hermione straight in the eyes. "I will promise to talk with her more, when I go back."

"And remember that, despite what might be perceived as weakness in her emotional state, that she's still a very strong woman underneath. To commit to you and move in with you, knowing what others would think and say, _that_ took courage. As much as she wants to be with you, she is probably not finding it easy to not be independent. You have to work together for each other."

"I thought that was what I _was_ doing." Anne looked up to the ceiling. "There's no way she can cope with the entire running of her estate on her own."

"Maybe not," replied Hermione. "You need to discuss it more together, then she won't feel she's being...dictated to, but being consulted. Even if you do need to make the final decisions."

"So you think I need to be more cunning?"

"That's not a great word, but I suppose so. Perhaps more considerately delicate."

"Hmm. I will think on it." Anne paused a moment or two. "You think badly of me, how I'm treating her? Is that perhaps something you've also been hiding?"

"No, not about that," said Hermione. "To judge you by our modern ways is completely wrong. However, to judge you in comparison to the sort of man that would have been sniffing around her and her money in your time, then you have nothing to apologize for. You've treated her far better than most marriages with men of your class. I would say you've never hurt her and certainly not physically."

"Absolutely not," said Anne immediately. "I would never...hurt her. Not like that, it makes me feel ill to think someone would." She paused and looked piercingly at Hermione. "I _know_ it isn't weakness, because of you. I saw how you coped with everything last time I saw you. Knowing what I know, I could never think of you as weak. It's a shame that Ann doesn't have your constitution. I suppose I find that hard. She has such a varied and inconsistent temper."

"If only love was easier," Hermione offered. "It's always difficult at some point, no matter the exact cause."

"Are you and Ginny truly all right?"

"Yes. I needed these few days away. I was getting a little down with my work," Hermione said before she thought about it, and nearly panicked hoping Anne wouldn't ask the wrong question.

"Too busy, or the content of the work?"

"Err...mostly the content," Hermione said, thinking of a way out with a little truth. "I've just spent way too long reading death certificates, burial registers. I've been surrounded by death. Not bad deaths, as deaths go, most just natural things, but it's dragged me down a little."

"Will you leave?"

"No. The project has nearly been completed and I'm down to part time hours. I get to assist in other departments too. It was just a long hard stretch to get the last bit done." Hermione stifled a yawn.

"You need to get to bed, get some sleep," said Anne. "We have a day tomorrow. Don't worry about getting up too early tomorrow. I'm feeling quite tired too from today. Unless we need to be up early for the Airport?"

"No, there are planes coming and going all day there."

Anne brought Hermione's hand to her lips and kissed it. "Thank you for talking with me. Now, go get some sleep. I promise not to be up later than nine tomorrow morning, a very normal time."

"You're all right?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. I'll probably think a bit more, then find sleep myself."

"Goodnight, Anne."

"Goodnight, Hermione. God bless."

**A/N: Fish and chips shops were not founded in Whitby, but are thought to have first appeared in London and a bit later than 1840...but I wanted to play with it because personally speaking, I prefer Whitby to London for all things!**

**Making Anne Lister wear a Spurs cap is just a bit of comical torment. It could have been worse I _could_ have made her wear an Arsenal one. :)**

**After a little teeny weeny comment came out about Anne Lister's activities at Christmas 1834, I decided to gently tweak one sentence to avoid the pain of comments/PMs of people pointing it out about her faithfulness to Ann Walker. What happened in basic terms is that Mariana Lawton got a bit jealous/possessive/in heat(LOL) over Anne and kind of got some action from her. In their terms, just a bit of 'grubbling'. But Anne was completely thrown by it and bothered, annoyed and mystified how it happened and resolved to stay away from her the rest of the stay as Mariana was leading her astray(it supplied much confused wondering, all in code). Mariana was Anne's poison, moth and flame, fly and turd...and because of Anne's incredulous, slightly ashamed reaction to it, I never counted it as being completely unfaithful to Ann Walker. Mariana got exactly what she wanted, even down to confusing the hell out of Anne about the whole incident, almost like she was proving that Anne couldn't resist her and she still had power over her. So that sort of clears up that issue... :)**


	18. Chapter 18 Limitations

Chapter Eighteen - "Limitations"

The next morning, Hermione was awake before Ginny and was first downstairs. Flicking on the TV, Hermione set about getting some cereal and filled the kettle. Ginny came down about half an hour later.

"It's the airport today?"

"Yeah," said Hermione. "They keep busy all day so we won't miss anything."

"She has anywhere in London to pick and watching planes lift-off and land is her choice?!"

"It's completely alien to what she's ever seen," said Hermione. "She has a scientific brain, it makes sense she wants to actually see it for herself."

"Okay, say for instance," said Ginny, as she poured out some cereal for herself. "Someone from fifty years from now, drops in and takes you back with them. What things would you most want to see?"

"Things that are new," the brunette replied. "Advancements. How about you? Quidditch maybe?"

"It would be interesting as to how it has continued," the redhead nodded.

"Now, to anyone other than us, that would seem odd and dull."

"Hmm, there are other things I'd want to see, but it depends on the limitations of what we're allowed to see."

Looking at the TV, Hermione glanced at the clock on the corner of the screen of the Sky News channel; it was nearly 8.50am. The news was the usual round of depressing things, but she and Ginny liked to keep up to date with the latest headlines.

"The weather going to be okay?" asked Ginny, having finished her cereal and flopping onto the sofa.  
"Yeah, should be dry."

They flicked news channels to see what other stations were reporting.

"Which terminal are we heading for?" asked Ginny.

"I hadn't thought," said Hermione. "They should have a terminal map online, to find a good viewing place."

The brunette got her lap top and opened it. She typed into google, information on Heathrow for viewing planes. She tapped 'Enter'. The official airport page popped up and she spent a few minutes reading to decide which place to choose, and she compared placements on the terminal maps, when she stopped. She hit the back button to look at the pages she had opened before entering her search.

She then looked at the clock at the bottom of the screen and looked over her laptop to the TV to check, and it was 9.10am now.

She put her laptop down and went upstairs.

"Where are you going?" asked Ginny.

"I need to check on Anne."

Ginny followed, unsure what the sudden interest was, she reached the landing as Hermione knocked on the door, and gently opened the bedroom door.

"Anne?" Hermone walked into the room, and Ginny heard her knock on the en suite door and open that. "Fuck!"

"What?" Ginny now walked into the room.

"Anne isn't here."

"Could she be in the other bathroom?"

They went along the landing and that bathroom was also empty, so they went back to her room. Her 1840 clothes were still hanging in the wardrobe, but most of the clothes from the day before were missing, and using one of the other shirts they had made for her. Hermione turned to look at the top of the chest of drawers, and couldn't contain a laugh despite the growing tension.

"She took the Spurs cap!"

"Where the hell is she? Gone for fish and chips?"

"We're so incredibly thick, incredibly insensitive and have completely messed up everything!" said Hermione, frustrated.

"Where's she gone?" Ginny asked carefully.

"You know we were just saying about the things we'd like to see, if we had the chance of being taken to the future. You said it depends on limitations, but when those limitations are just words and not written laws, then of course the first bloody place you'd go to is: your _home_!"

"You don't mean..."

"Oh yes, our bonny little traveller is on a train to Halifax! And that means she's on her way to Shibden Hall!"

"How?! She has no money."

Hermione rushed out and down the stairs and opened the drawer where the homeowner always kept the Oyster cards and credit cards. A small purse, which contained some odd loose cash, was missing along with one of the credit cards. It was likely an Oyster card had also been taken, but as there were always plenty of those it was hard to tell for sure. "We've been stitched up _and_ we deserve it! So stupid!"

"How? How is she getting from here, this exact house, to Halifax?"

Hermione opened her laptop to the page that had been there when she opened it. It showed the route and stops and every step of the journey from their front door to Halifax.

"She needs to get to Kings Cross. Oh so handy that it's on the Victoria line, the next stop after Oxford Circus! Then from Kings Cross to Leeds, and from Leeds to Halifax." Hermione put her head in her hands, and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "She might even have taken a taxi to Kings Cross!"

"Do we know what time train she might have been aiming for?" asked Ginny, sitting next to her.

"From this it was going to be around 7am. She's probably bloody on it?!"

"How do we rescue this utter shit show?" Ginny pleaded. "We can't easily just Apparate on to a public train."

"Let me think," said a very flustered Hermione. "We can track the trains, on the National Rail Enquiries site."

The brunette went to the website and decided to put in 'arrivals' for Leeds from London. There were a few trains during the morning, so she clicked on the one for 7am. Her eyes frantically searched for the train being held up or where it had last stopped. "Bollocks!"

"Not good?"

"That train arrived in Leeds, two minutes late at 9.21am." Hermione looked at the time. "That was five minutes ago."

"Does she have to change trains?" asked Ginny.

"Err...yes, the connecting train from Leeds to Halifax is 9.31am. We need to get to Leeds station."

"We can't just drop in!? Public place and all that!"

Hermione tapped aggressively at the laptop keys and brought up pictures and satellite images of Leeds station. "Of course, the place has lots of lines and is huge!?" she exclaimed.

Ginny looked at the images. "It's much bigger than Halifax, many more lines...hey, what about there?" The redhead pointed to one of the many car parks, with this one bordered by some trees separating it from a river. "If we're unfortunate enough to land as someone drives into the parking place, we can pretend we climbed over the fence, no idea what for, but it's all I can think of."

"It will have to do, minutes are ticking."

Hermione quickly got her beaded bag, packed a couple of Oyster cards, just in case and one of the credit cards left. They went to Anne's room and Disapparated to the car park at Leeds Station. They both found themselves tight against the fence as the car parked in front of them was quite long and using all the space. They sidled out of the cars, not seeing anyone looking their way and ran to the station complex.

"Platform 11b, I think,"said Hermione.

Ginny was in front and dashing to the main area and finding where they had to go for the correct platform. Hermione managed to see a departures screen as she ran by. She shortly followed Ginny onto the platform to see the back end of a train curling around a bend a few hundred yards down the track.

"Was that to Halifax?" Ginny asked a station official on the platform."

"Yes, love. Don't worry, there'll be another in about fifteen minutes on that platform," the man pointed.

"Thank you," Ginny said walking back with Hermione. "What now?"

"We need to see the route, but without my laptop...and not knowing the places. We need to aim for Halifax."

"We don't really know it now," said Ginny. "It's probably changed a lot since 1943."

"I know there's some trees near a car park again," said Hermione. "I got a glimpse once, recently, when I went to the library and had a walk around town."

"Was the journey about thirty minutes?"

"Yeah, depending which train, it looked like most took between thirty and thirty-five minutes. It will depend on any delays at the couple of stops in between."

Ginny looked up at the large station clock. "We have a little time. I suggest we go back to the place we arrived."

They both walked back to the tree-lined fence and Disapparated appearing almost 'in' a hedge at Halifax in another car park. Having checked that again they were unobserved, they brushed off a couple of twigs and leaves and walked to the station building.

"There's the Minster church," Hermione pointed to the square tower of the church as they walked along.

"If Anne sees that...which she will as it's hard to miss...she's viewing her own..."

"Grave," Hermione finished the sentence for her wife. "We'll get to it when we need to. First we have to meet up with her again."

"Looks like they still only have a couple of platforms which makes things easier," observed Ginny, as they walked into the building.

They looked at an arrivals screen and saw that the train from Leeds was on time. All they had now was time, as they walked to the right platform and sat on a bench. A lot less people were at this station than at Leeds.

"I suppose she's seen her own grave anyway," said Hermione. "When her father and aunt were buried there in 1836, she even remarked on it in her diary. She was supposed to have been buried in the same vault inside the church, or possibly nearby in the church, so she knew where she was going to end up...just not, _how_ she got there."

"Or when," said Ginny.

"Everything, and I mean _everything_, could be rapidly going down the toilet," said a worried Hermione. "I'm sorry. I'm selfish, stupid and clearly live in a dream world."

Ginny got hold of her hand. "You don't have to apologize to me. I'm in it with you right to whatever end it has. But, don't worry about that yet. First, if and when, Anne gets off that next train, what is your plan?"

"Take her back to London...and...," Hermione stopped as she saw her wife shaking her head. "What then?"

"Instead of answering straight away, I'll take you to the answer a bit more gently," said Ginny, then failing to stop a crooked grin when she saw a confused look on the brunette's face. "What have we always said about big events in the past, when we've been back?"

"That they still happen, maybe altered slightly, but basically the same ending they always had."

"What did Jane say about the Riddles' deaths?"

"They were going to happen that year anyway."

"So, with that in mind, I think we owe it to Anne to tell her the truth," said Ginny.

"Hmm," said Hermione, her shoulders slumped. "How much truth were you planning on?"

"The fact she dies soon, back in 1840; the fact she's buried in that church over there, but we can also be truthful in saying that we don't know how it happened."

"But we do..."

"Not exactly, nor the absolute precise placing or time. From your books, most say a fever from a tick. You said yourself, once or twice, that it could have been a number of things that gave her a fatal fever."

"Yes." Hermione had her elbow on her knee, and her chin on that hand, staring at an ant crawling along the concrete near her feet. She looked up. "What about the diaries?!"

"Unless we absolutely have to, we don't say how far they have gone, and not about the code. We'll have to play that one as we go along."

"Do we take her to Shibden?"

"Yes, if she still wants to go there. Same with the church."

"All right," said Hermione, nodding. "We be as honest as we can, depending on what she asks, or sees."

"There is another course of action," said Ginny, in a very low voice.

"What?"

"_Obliviate_."

"No! Absolutely not!" said Hermione, sitting up and alert. "I promised I would not meddle with her mind. I can't do that to her. I can't do that to _anyone_, now."

"Okay," Ginny squeezed her wife's hand. "I understand. It was just an option. So, how long have we got?"

"About another twenty minutes."

Ginny looked past Hermione at their surroundings. A couple of people walked out onto their platform and a family of three were going to the another platform. She turned to glance at some more arrivals. "Oh shit!"

"What?" asked Hermione.

"We're in the shit. The shittiest of shit, that ever was shitted."

Hermione looked to where her wife was looking and saw Ron and Jane walking towards them. "Bloody hell! What the fuck?"

"Hey, Hermione, Ginny," said Ron. Jane put her hand up in a small wave of hello. "So you've either deliberately tried to test my trainee's ability with some decoy fun, or you've done something a little mental?!"

"What do you know?" asked Ginny, wearily.

"I should be asking _you_ that," said Ron, but there was his usual half grin on his face.

"I'm sorry," said Jane, who then didn't look so assured and began to babble. "I recognized Anne yesterday. I was so bored and the aurors wanted things we'd observed and I thought I might have seen wrongly and I was working with your brother, so I didn't think it would matter as much, then we set a watch on the house you're staying at...and..."

"_Brilliant!_" said Ginny, sarcastically.

"She was doing her job," said Ron, but then continued in a friendly voice. "So what _were_ you doing, bringing this Lister woman here?"

"Repaying a favour, in a way," said Hermione. "She risked so much for us while chasing after your..._trainee_."

"For which she's paying for the mistake," said Ron, nodding Jane.

"No, she's right," said Jane. "Had they not had Anne Lister's help, and were able to stay at Shibden Hall, they could have been in a lot of danger. You know they both got injured, in 1832."

"We can't all go transporting people around," said Ron in answer, and looked back at Hermione. "You two, of all people, know the risks..."

"If you're going to say: you're _sooo_ disappointed with us, forget it," said Ginny. "Hermione had to do this."

"So, you're saying that she _had_ to go back in time, bring back someone who doesn't belong here, and a muggle at that, to have a...what? Good time?" Ron was a little exasperated.

"I can't explain it," said Hermione. "Actually I can, but you wouldn't understand. Okay, you might, but...urghhh." She threw her hands up, stood up and walked down the platform.

"Something has been playing on her mind, a lot," Ginny said quietly to her brother. "She's spent the last few months only looking at deaths: the causes, the dates, the ages. And it always comes back to Anne Lister and her premature death. That woman helped her. Shortly before we got dragged into that mission she had been getting her PTSD problems again, as you probably heard via the family. Anne Lister helped her, in whatever minor way it might seem to others, she _helped_ her. She wanted to see her one last time, and maybe feel better about the fact that woman dies when and in the way she does."

"She can't change that," said Ron. "She _knows_ that. I don't want to have to take her into custody, but if she's thinking..."

"She's not. She knows she can't change it, even if she wanted to. All she wanted, was a chance to show Anne our world, the muggle world, not the magical."

"What's she going to do now? Jane has told me about this Anne Lister woman. Is she a threat?"

"No. I don't think so. She's just a woman wanting to see her home and I think we should let her."

"Whew!" Ron exclaimed. "You like increasing the complications, don't you?"

"Yes, we underestimated Anne's ability to adapt so quickly, and her deep resolve to see her home. But we now think we should be honest, as much as possible, and let her see it." Ginny paused. "Only, I think we have to do this alone."

"By rights I should arrest the lot of you," said Ron. "...get you to explain yourselves to Kingsley."

"We give her this day, and she goes back to her time," said Ginny. "Today was always the plan for taking her back. Please, let us finish this and mop up our own mess. Which, I might add, we were trying to do, waiting for her train from Leeds."

Ron looked at his sister and up the platform to the brunette with her back turned and came to a decision. "I'm as much a fool as you, but...I'll trust you to sort this out. However, I will be watching for your return to that London house you're staying at, and will check the house early this evening. If any more crap occurs, after that point, I'm sorry but I'll have to report it."

"We're going to report everything once it's over. Hermione doesn't know this, but I came to the decision when we set out on getting here. We will hide nothing. Deal?" she stuck out her hand.

With a moment of hesitation, Ron then nodded and shook his sister's hand. "Jane, you just witnessed that. However, you are not to breathe a word of this to anyone. Consider yourself bound by oath of confidentiality. You speak to no one about this, other than me, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

In any other circumstance Ginny would have made a funny comment about her brother being addressed as 'sir', but she wasn't feeling very humourous.

"The train should arrive in another five minutes," Ginny said, looking to the arrivals screen on the platform.

"Look, I know you probably won't need it, but if you need help, call on me," said Ron, seriously. "Or Harry, Bill and Fleur. Ask for help if you need it. Only, don't fuck this up more than it already might be!"

Ginny nodded. "Agreed. Perhaps it would be best to leave us now."

"Hope to see you later, with your guest, securely in the house in London," said Ron, as he and Jane walked away and back through the station building.

Ginny walked over to Hermione and told her of the agreement, with her wife immediately saying. "Sorry."

"We spoke about this, there's nothing to be sorry for, not to me, anyway," Ginny said and embraced her wife.

"It looks like aurors are getting better at tracking people now," said Hermione. "We started that development."

"I suppose with Jane knowing who Anne was, it didn't take much piecing together where we all might be."

As they stood close together Ginny looked along the track and saw the front of the train appear down the line. She gave Hermione a little squeeze. "Let's hope she's on the thing and not taken the train to Scotland by mistake."

The train slowly pulled into the platform with the muffled station announcer stating the arrival. The doors slid open and a few people walked out, some with back packs slung over shoulders, a couple looking down checking their phones. And then they saw her; Anne Lister walked onto the platform confidently, and walked towards the station building, Spurs cap in hand. It was then she saw the two witches, she faltered a step, looked to the sky briefly, then carried on walking towards them, resignedly.

"You're here to thwart me?" she asked rhetorically. "Well, it was nice while it lasted."

"It was rather impressive, actually," said Ginny. "It took me a lot longer than you to adjust to modern train travel."

Anne gave a quirky smile to Ginny; a little proud, a little mischievous and then she looked to Hermione, and her face dropped, slightly ashamed. "I'm sorry. You must feel I have betrayed your trust?"

"No, we don't," said Hermione. "It's us who've been completely stupid, selfish and ignorant. Of course you'd want to come here. To not recognize that, was no better than dangling a carrot in front of you."

"She means...," Ginny began, unsure if the 'dangling carrot' analogy made sense.

"I understand the meaning," said Anne, holding a hand up. "Nonetheless, I apologize for any trouble I have caused you. Are you here to take me straight back...back to the monastery?"

"No," said Hermione. "We're under orders to take you back later."

"Ah, so that girl saw me and recognized me yesterday?" When the two witches nodded, Anne looked down to her feet. "I won't need this any longer, then, nor these." she handed over the Spurs cap to Hermione, the purse with loose change, the Oyster card and the credit card. "I'm sorry."

"Okay, here's a new rule," said Ginny, suddenly. "From here onwards, no one says 'sorry' for any action that has brought us here to Halifax station, right?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," said a distracted Hermione.

"Yes," Anne replied simply.

"You used the credit card?"

"Yes. It was much easier than I anticipated. Alas, I won't be able to pay you, or the card owner back."

"It doesn't matter," Hermione brushed off, before asking. "What did you want to do here? Specifically?"

Anne took a deep breath. "See Shibden, of course, even if it's just a glimpse at a distance. And perhaps...visit my aunt's resting place at Halifax church, though from what you have told me that could be dangerous, possibly?"

"In what way do you think it's dangerous?" Hermione asked carefully, wanting to hear it for herself.

"Well, because that's most likely where I'm buried. Therefore it must be strange for a living person to be in the same pace as their corpse." Anne inclined her head at the last sentence, then saw Ginny wince. "Have I said something bad? Or was I seeking the impossible?"

"Do you have to say 'corpse'?" said Ginny, still with a grimace.

"It _is_ what it is," stated Anne, not understanding the discomfort.

"I know...urgh, don't mind me," Ginny flapped a hand.

"I don't know what the risk is of appearing in the same place in two different forms," said Hermione. "We've never had the difficulty of facing that dilemma. However...," she stumbled over the words, on how to approach it. She pointed to the benches and got them all to sit down.

"What are you thinking?" asked Ginny of her wife.

"About whether bigger things can be altered...you know..."

"Oh! Yeah, we seem to see enough proof for it to be the case."

"Anne, you know that we've said big things in history do not appear to be able to be changed. Like in 1832, at least three of those men, if not all, would have died that year anyway. And we were sure that the boy couldn't have been killed for one reason or another. Do you understand that big events, milestone events, probably can't be changed, no matter how hard a person might try to do that?"

"I remember our conversations on this, and I agreed that perhaps things set in stone cannot be altered, only small circumstantial things."

"It's the setting in stone that is important, because to visit Halifax church would be to possibly know your own death date," said Hermione, unable to hide the glumness she was feeling.

"Ah, I see," Anne nodded. "And you have known this, all along? When I pass over from my life?"

Ginny answered for her wife. "She's known from the start. It has been so hard to have that knowledge and to keep it from you."

"We can go to the church – it's actually called Halifax Minster now – but if you do go, you have to know that some things could be revealed to you, about your future. It could change how you think from the moment you gain that knowledge." Hermione looked straight into Anne's eyes to show her sincerity. "But, we will no longer hide that, if it's something you really want to do."

"And Shibden Hall? Might I see a glimpse of that?"

"Yes. The parklands and Hall are open to the public, but it might be best if we stuck to the parklands," Hermione suggested.

"I agree to that," said Anne. "In my thoughts last night, the thing that bothered me most, was if I somehow had access to go inside, that it would vex me terribly if it has been changed too much, or there are things in the wrong rooms, or displayed in the wrong ways. It would be utterly too stressful on my normally strong constitution."

"I agree on that, and I'm relieved too," said Hermione, thinking that any information on the diaries was less likely to be out in the grounds, but was certain to be highlighted in the house. "We will take you to the parklands around the Hall."

"I hate to give the impression of a complainer," Anne said. "But, I wish I had asked you about this last night, it would have saved a lot of trouble."

"And we would have refused, in our selfish, ignorant turdishness," explained Hermione. "This way we were forced to evaluate our faults."

"Dear lord! 'Turdishness', is that a common phrase?" Anne inquired.

"It's new to me too," said Ginny, staring with contentment at her wife's new choice of vocabulary. "I think it basically means our inadequate crapness."

This actually made Hermione laugh, properly, for the first time that day. "Look, let's get a taxi to Shibden and go from there. But, be warned that there might be information posts, or signs, that might betray something about you and your future."

"I'm ready for anything, now." said Anne, resolutely.

The taxi they had taken from the station was on its way to Shibden. Anne was looking all round, trying to find landmarks she recognized. Once out of Halifax, and the very familiar towers of the church and the Piece Hall not far from the train station were out of sight, things were not so familiar to her. The roads, the buildings and traffic and the people. She looked a little crestfallen, and Hermione noticed it.

"Changed a lot, I expect?"

"It would appear so," Anne replied flatly. "If it wasn't for the church back there, I'd hardly know which direction we were heading. It doesn't look how I imagined, from viewing the map."

They passed several tourist sign posts for Shibden Hall ahead, which the two witches were sure would have some effect on Anne, because it had an effect on themselves.

"You realize we haven't been here in modern times," said Ginny. "We didn't go there...the other time. This is new to us too."

"I could never bring myself to go there," said Hermione. "My research didn't take me there and any information was at Halifax library." What she couldn't say was that, there were no diaries at Shibden so she had no need to go there, along with the changes time had placed on the Hall that would have made it difficult to see, having known what it really looked like in Anne's time, with a living breathing Anne there too.

The taxi pulled into a car park, from which more open parkland and trees could be seen. Having paid for the fare, they all got out of the car and walked along a path that pointed towards the Hall. A little way along, Anne stopped, closed her eyes and lifted her head, as if sniffing the air. She _was _sniffing the air. When she opened her eyes again, she then looked around her and settled her gaze on Hermione and Ginny. "It nearly smells the same, under the...whatever the smell is."

"Pollution from the road, probably," said Hermione.

"No, it's not like the London I left this morning, more like it lacks something," said Anne curiously. "Smoke...there's no smoke. I know London didn't have it either, but here it is more noticeable in its absence."

"Oh," Hermione realized. "There's less people with open fires now and no factories or mines." She looked at some signs and directed them on a path that led into the parkland rather than to the house. As the Hall came into view Anne stopped still again, swallowing very hard.

"It's changed a little," Hermione offered.

"Yes, quite a bit, but...," Anne tailed off as she continued to stare at her former home. "It's nearly how I envisioned it. _Nearly_. The pictures didn't quite give me the feel for it."

"Better or worse?" Ginny asked.

"Neither. Some bits I like, some probably don't work as well as I hoped," said Anne. "Can we walk a bit more in the grounds?"

"Of course," replied Hermione, watching Anne's face. "Are you all right? It's a lot to take in."

"I'm always all right," said Anne, with that quirky smile she liked to employ. "It feels very strange. I can feel the place in my bones, like it's echoing in the marrow."

They walked to the edge of the parkland, for a fantastic view sweeping down to the house, and the visitors wandering around it. "I'm sure that is not something you can get used to," said Hermione. "All the people walking around and inside."

"I'm trying to avoid looking too closely at them," admitted Anne.

"A good idea," the brunette agreed.

They found a bench and sat down, still with a nice view; Hermione always having a flask of tea in her beaded bag, brought it out for them all to have a cup.

"I remember us doing this eight years ago," said Anne wistfully. "Eight years ago to me, at least."

"Yeah, we did," said Hermione, remembering it.

"Does your Ann like it here?" asked Ginny.

"That is something I'm not sure about. I don't think she hates it, but it isn't quite up to the standard she's used to," Anne explained. "Even when she leaves for a day or two to visit her properties she always comes back. She doesn't have to, really."

"If it was me," said Ginny. "I'd prefer to stay here rather than being in one of those large square, boring Georgian houses. All have the same windows, all have the same porticos."

"The thing is, there's always a draft here at Shibden. Ill-fitting windows, then rooms that get too hot from the fires below."

Hermione laughed. "Believe me, Ginny would always love this place, makes her think of home."

"What?" Anne broke her gaze from her home to look at her companions. "I thought your house was a cottage?"

"Oh, it is," said Ginny. "My parents' house is all bits and pieces, with drafts and squeaks in some places, and all manner of things in other places."

"It's not a Hall, like this?"

"No. Just a large, higgledy piggledy farmhouse and with our 'talents', other rooms can be added for family occasions. We got married there," the redhead said.

"Married at your home?" Anne was fascinated. "I never thought to ask where it happened."

"Most of her family get married there when the occasion happens," Hermione said. "We wanted to as well. It was all properly done with a registrar and witnesses and everything."

"So no clergy or priest?"

"No, that's not who we are," replied Ginny first.

"I'm interested, if that is the case, how do you...," Anne tailed off, thinking of the right words. "How do you have your, souls – for want of a better word – joined, if no prayers are said, no communion given at the time of joining yourselves?"

"Our vows were to each other, in front of, and witnessed by our family and friends. By pledging ourselves to each other, exchanging rings, trust, promises, oaths, we were as deeply joined as any other method of marriage could claim to offer." Hermione answered. "And we signed a marriage certificate too, seconded by a civil partnership in the non-magical world so we're legally married wherever we are."

There was silence for a time. "I'm not sure I could ever be that public, even if it was the done thing from my time," said Anne.

"It doesn't have to be public," said Hermione. "That's the beauty of choice here. You could quietly get a civil partnership, witnessed by a couple of random people and no big deal made of it."

"Freedom...of thought, of choice, of action," Anne muttered. "I suppose one doesn't know how one would be, if one were used to it."

"Going from 1840 to here is a bit of a shock," said Hermione. "Maybe too much...maybe..."

"No, I'm glad you brought me," said Anne, taking hold of Hermione's hand. "And I'm glad you're both with me."

They stayed for a while longer, with Ginny getting them some sandwiches from a coffee shop, with Anne not wanting to be out of sight of the Hall.

"I still can't quite believe that you looked up the information you needed on my laptop, got to Kings Cross station, got your ticket, using a credit card, remembering the PIN number, and got a train to Leeds, then changed for Halifax...all by yourself?!" Hermione was shaking her head.

"I'm a keen observer," Anne replied. "I'm good at improvising when I need to."

"You're a sponge," said Hermione, suddenly.

"Sponge?" Anne asked mildly confused. "Are we talking the living kind from the sea or a cake had with afternoon tea?"

"The former...you soak up knowledge, but really fast," said Hermione.

"I'm sure a Victoria sponge cake could soak up a lot too," said Ginny, with a raised eyebrow.

"I've always been that way," said Anne. "If one isn't taking in the world around them and the details and oddities, what is the point to anything?"

"When you put it like that..." said Ginny, nodding.

By mid-afternoon Anne suddenly sighed. "I know you have to get me back to London by tea time. Do we have time to see Halifax church?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "If that is really what you'd like to do?"

"It is," Anne nodded. "Though I can sense you don't want me to. You don't want me to know or..."

"Or, I'm also really unsure how any of this works," replied Hermione. "We've not experienced what you're going to do before."

"Well, let's get on with it," said Anne.

Back at the car park area they were fortunate that another taxi had just dropped off two customers and Ginny asked if he could take them back to Halifax near the church. As it turned out his next job took him back past there and he agreed to take them.

Anne gave the parkland one last wistful look, then turned her head and looked forward as they drove away again. Several minutes later they were dropped not far from the church and they walked the rest of the way.

The church was open and no service was taking place. "At least we won't be shocking a congregation by our appearance," said Anne, drily. "Unlike some people I know."

Ginny chuckled. "We did rather make a dramatic entrance back then."

A couple of people were in the church, either visitors or volunteers, but it was basically empty. Anne led them to the north west part of the church, obviously aiming for a particular place. She stopped, looked up at the wall and windows, then around at other markers and then looked down again. "Should be here..."

"Your aunt and father?" asked Hermione, knowingly.

"Yes. All of us. But I can see no marker, or stone. Did they move them or...the stone break..or perhaps never got placed properly...?"

Inside, both Hermione and Ginny were feeling slightly relieved, as it didn't reveal anything of the last resting place, and no inkling that Anne's own broken gravestone slab was propped up elsewhere. Hermione had never seen a grave marker there, but was unsure if what was happening now would slightly change appearances.

_I think we're lucky, _thought Hermione. _No dates, and we might get out of here painlessly, after all._

"Well, they..._we_...should be under here," said Anne, pointing to the area under her feet. She briefly bowed her head muttered something too quiet for the witches to hear, nodded again and faced them.

"A bit disappointing, but that is time and change," Anne said resignedly, as she turned to make their way in the direction of the nave and the exit again. "Do you know...where Ann Walker was buried? Is she in here?"

Hermione experienced a feeling like an icicle poking down her throat and into her heart. "No, she's not here," she said carefully. "She was buried at Lightcliffe, but...," she faltered.

"What? You can't tell me?"

"The church was demolished, although it's known roughly where she lies, which would have been inside the church near the pulpit."

Anne nodded. "It makes sense. We had begun to frequent that church more. She liked it there."

They walked slowly up the aisle, when a woman with a name label approached. "Did I hear you discussing Ann Walker?"

"Yes," replied Hermione, getting a feeling of dread.

"Such a sad thing that the church is gone, there...all apart from the tower, anyway," the woman said, who was so obviously some sort of guide or warden of the church.

"And the Lister vault in here?" Anne asked.

"Oh it's here, approximately along the north to north-west side," said the guide. "Since the refurbishments and floor level issues, things were not exactly where we expected. We believe Anne Lister's aunt Anne and father are in the vault in the north west side, but we don't have a marker there, we're unsure if there ever was a marker."

Hermione felt a bit sweaty, and Ginny had grabbed her hand by their sides. Had they heard each other's thoughts it would have been: _Shit, shit, shit!_

"And Anne Lister, herself?" asked Anne, _herself_.

The other two women's thoughts had moved onto: _Fuck, fuck ,fuck!_

"We're not sure; her coffin is in here somewhere but we're still not entirely sure where," the guide answered. "Possibly the north aisle adjacent to the other Lister vault."

"Why is that?" Anne probed. "I would have thought she would have been laid to rest with her aunt Anne, her father and uncle?"

"The theory is that her coffin was too big and didn't fit into that particular vault. But it is definitely in here somewhere and most likely nearby to them."

"That's very interesting," said Hermione. "Thank you for all the information." She was hoping they could leave without any more damage being done, but then Anne spoke again.

"Why was it too big, and not the standard size?" Anne asked, not noticing that the colour had drained from the faces of her two witch friends.

"Again, it's a theory, but it's thought it was something to do with the way it was sealed for the long journey, possibly more encased and therefore the larger surrounding coffin didn't fit in the space that was left."

"Oh," was all Anne could reply, thinking hard, then she simply nodded her head. "Thank you."

Hermione was hoping that yet again they could edge away, but just as she was about to step closer to the exit end of the nave, the guide shoved the metaphorical icicle dagger further into Hermione's heart.

"We do have the remains of her gravestone slab, if you'd like to see?" the guide offered. "It was discovered during recent refurbishments, under some old Victorian pews."

"I'd like to see that," said Anne, turning to her friends and seeing their worried expressions. "We're all right to look?" she asked quietly. They nodded, but their looks told her how much they were dreading it.

The lady guide walked them along, and propped up against a wall was the fragmented broken stone of Anne Lister's last resting place.

"I can't see her name?" inquired Anne.

"No, not properly, but it can only be her stone," the guide explained.

"Because?"

"Because of the death in Koutais, now known as Kutaisi, in what is now Georgia. The partial date and the age, forty-nine."

"Ah, I see," said Anne calmly. "Thank you. We'll...we'll just have a little sit down, then we have to go again."

"If you need any other information, come and find me," said the guide as she left them.

They walked to some pews a short distance away and Hermione thumped her backside down onto one, and Anne sat next to her and in a bizarre turn of events it was Anne that took hold of the brunette's hand, trying to comfort _her_.

Hermione looked up into her face, questioningly, all too obvious _what_ she was asking about, without naming it.

"I'm fine, Hermione. _You're_ not looking quite so well, though," Anne said.

"You...you just saw...you know...," Hermione stumbled over her words, her eyes tearing up a little. Ginny sat on her other side, looking just as glum as her wife, and held her other hand.

"It had to be, didn't it?" said Anne, as if she was talking about an answer to a mathematical problem, rather than the fact of her own death being very near. "You were nervous and upset the moment you knew I wanted to come here, and the moment we set foot in the place you were strung as tight as a drum."

"Even so..."

"I guessed it might be; because of why you fetched me from where you did. There have been so many things you have said and done that told me that it had to be soon. I didn't know just how soon, but there it is."

"How can you be so calm?" Ginny asked, this time.

"Perhaps knowing in my way, and only having it confirmed now, was simply answering the question I already knew the answer to. It's confirmation. Do you know _how_ it happens?" Anne looked into Hermione's face.

Hermione couldn't meet her eyes, sighed and was about to try and answer.

"Shot? Robbed? Accident?" Anne suggested.

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head.

"That's a shame," said Anne. "So I'm guessing it's food poisoning or..." She was watching Hermione's face to gauge the answer. "Or illness?"

Hermione was unable to mask a resigned sigh, desperately trying not to let any tears fall, and answered Anne without words.

"I see," said Anne. "Well, from what you've told me, Ann makes it back with my sealed coffin, why else would it be the wrong size if a long journey was involved? And I'm in here somewhere. And at least I was important enough that they've saved the gravestone pieces and have not thrown them away."

"Your death has been bothering Hermione, since before we ever met you in 1832," said Ginny. "And lately it's almost made her ill with sadness, to know that you die so young and so far from home."

Anne turned to Hermione and held both her hands in front of her. "Forty-nine isn't young, not by the standards of my time. I think I've probably done quite well with my time. As for the location. It is quite a beautiful place, despite the heat and obvious risk to health. Within sight of the beautiful Caucasus Mountains. My...Ann with me. Yes, there's always so much a person wants to do and never the time to do it. But we have to work with the time we are given, however long or short; it is the time we have been allotted and who am I to argue about it. The more minutes that pass, the more adjusted I am to this news. Don't be sad, I'm not." She wiped the tear trail from Hermione's cheek.

Hermione sniffled. "I'm sorry, Anne," she managed to say.

"What for, _this_ time?"

"Everything, mostly for not being completely honest with you."

"You never really lied, did you? Modified the truth; manipulated the facts, perhaps?" Anne smiled, then patted Hermione's hand. "You meant well. You never meant me harm. And you seem to have respected that things are the way they are. You didn't try to change anything about me."

"Not sure it would work anyway," said Ginny. "You have a mind of your own and use it."

"I do have another question, if you're able to answer?" asked Anne, looking about them to make sure they were not overheard.

Hermione nodded.

"What happened to my sister, Marian? Is she in here too?" Anne indicated to the church.

"No," replied Hermione. "For reasons I could never really work out entirely, she's buried in a Lister plot at Southowram."

"Not completely surprising, that she was somewhere else. May I ask when?"

With a considering deep sigh, Hermione nodded. "I tell you with caution, not to be repeated to Ann or anyone that could pass the information along. Your sister dies in 1882 aged eighty-four."

"Married?"

"No."

Anne made a noise, which was close to a derisive amused snort, then she composed herself again. "She outlives the lot of us. Thank you for telling me. Now, you had better get us back to London. I assume this can be quick?"

They walked out to the churchyard, picked a secluded corner and in moments Ginny had taken them all back to Anne's room at the house in Victoria.

On sitting down on the bed after feeling a little wobbly on arrival, Anne said, "There are many other things I would like to ask you, such as what happens with Ann and anything that follows, but I know I should not know that, nor dates. It is enough that I know my own...journey. What happens after then I cannot alter, even if I wanted to."

Hermione and Ginny had looked tense, wondering if they were going to have to go back on their honesty policy and refuse the information, especially as Ann Walker's history after returning to England was not a happy episode. Anne smiled, seeing their relief. "The worry is over, I won't ask for more information on Ann. It is good to know she gets back safely, at least. I think perhaps I have been blessed with the knowledge people do not usually have. I am content with that."

They set to having a cup of tea and then flicking on the television downstairs, putting Sky News on. After five minutes or so, Anne suddenly sat forward, studying the screen, squinting slightly to read the ticker tape headlines.

"Is something wrong?" asked Ginny.

"I haven't made the news," said Anne.

"Were you supposed to? We were with you most of the time...oh hell, you didn't do something on the train to Leeds, or Halifax did you?" asked a worried Hermione.

"I felt sure that 'Anne Lister of Shibden Hall visiting her own grave' should have been a headline?!" said the lady herself with a crooked smile.

"Oh shit! Don't _do_ that!" said Hermione, nearly wheezing with relief.

Anne Lister was laughing. "Your faces!"

Ginny starting laughing. "Hermione sooo thought you'd punched another train passenger or insulted someone!"

"I remember from our time eight years ago – well, for me – that you continually surprised me, rushed me, or were beyond predictable. It was time to reverse the situation." Anne, looked a little smug.

"Well, I had better not surprise you and go get the hottest curry I can find for your tea, dinner or whatever that meal will become," said Ginny.

"If I am to go back to the monastery in a couple of hours, I think I should refrain from added gastric disturbance," Anne said, slightly concerned.

"She's kidding _you_, now," said Hermione.

"I've waited eight years for my jape and you come back in two minutes?!" Anne exclaimed. "Hmm." She was smiling warmly though.

No one really felt hungry but Ginny said she's go to a bakery and see what she could pick up to at least have with a cuppa; but as Ginny got up to leave there was a knock at the door. She went to open it. "What the hell do you want?"

"Hi to you too," said Ron, standing on the doorstep. "Can I come in?"

"Must you?"

"I need to check, it was part of the deal."

"I thought you'd only be watching the house?"

"I can't tell everything from out there."

"Oh, come in."

Ginny walked back into the room with Ron behind her. "Big brother's watching us," she said.

"Ron?! I didn't know you'd be coming _into_ the house?" Hermione said, surprised and immediately annoyed. _He's not going to stay until we leave, is he? He fucking well isn't, if I have anything to do with it!_ She thought.

"That's what _she_ said," he replied, pointing to his sister, who then waved as she went to leave.

"Well, Ron, this is Anne Lister," she pointed to their guest. "Anne, this turd...I mean man, is in charge of making sure we don't do something stupid, and he's also Ginny's brother."

Anne looked guarded at first, but then intrigued, looking the newcomer up and down, with her usual penetrating gaze, probably working out his weight and leg length. "Do you all have red hair?"

Ron groaned. "Like I haven't heard that lately?!"

"Oh, don't bother with him. Manners were never his strong point. Yes, they all have red hair," Hermione answered, getting a mystified glare from her former boyfriend.

"Extraordinary," said Anne, still looking at Ron, who looked uncomfortable.

"Is that something they do in 1840, stare at a bloke till he either goes away or melts?" Ron said.

"No, that's reserved just for you," said Hermione, sarcastically.

"Have you been at the vinegar today?" Ron said to Hermione. "You're very acidic!"

"Well, you _have_ blundered in at a..."

"Blundered? _Me_? I'm not the one..."

"All right! We know why you're here. There is Anne, she is safe in this house. No, she won't be leaving the house again," Hermione explained feeling exasperated. "We will take her back in a couple of hours and return. On return we shall contact you and you can see for yourself. Anything else you need to know?"

Ron had gone a bit red in the face, but refrained from saying what was on his mind and instead said. "Fine. See that you do as we agreed. I'll leave again." He turned and left the room and they heard the door open and bang shut again.

"He was the one you used to court?" Anne asked, knowingly.

"Yes."

"I thought so. Were you always so...so prickly with each other?"

"Quite a lot," said Hermione, actually giving a chuckle. "It would never have worked, in any world, time or circumstance."

"I can _see_ that," agreed Anne. "You were actually more prickly than I've ever seen in the short time I've been around you. Not even in crisis moments did I see you like that?!"

Hermione stood up and crossed her arms and went to the window, but not actually seeing where Ron was going to watch from. "I didn't want our final hours together to be shared with that..._thing _breathing down our necks and making stupid comments. He has nothing to do with this."

"And is he always so...charismatic?"

Hermione nearly groaned. "Oh yes, that's him all over."

"It seems to me, he's never been able to control you and that bothers him...or is it 'compete' with you?" Anne pondered. "He certainly seems to be experiencing pain at being inferior to you in some way."

"That was always a problem too," said Hermione. "He would never just work with me, or rarely. Everything always had to be argued and he'd imagine all sorts of stupid things that I never even indicated or...just too much of a fight the whole time."

Anne walked up behind the brunette and wrapped her arms around her and hugged her. "You made the right choice. Ginny is your equal. You're so natural in each other's company. You have conversations that don't even require words." Hermione made a funny noise in her throat pointing to obvious innuendo, which Anne quickly realized. "No, not _that_! I mean the kind in public, over ordinary things, you just connect your minds. I've witnessed this myself. I've always envied it."

Hermione covered one of the hands wrapped around her. "Ginny and I have known each other a long time. It's shared experience that threw us together, that and immense dangers, when all we had was each other and no certainty of even surviving. Other people have tried to break us, but they won't succeed."

"Oh...I'm...I never...," Anne loosened her embrace and backed away.

Hermione turned. "I don't mean you, or that time we...no, no. I meant other people here in this time." She went to Anne, kissed her cheek and hugged her. "Besides you sort of had Ginny's permission."

"I will never understand that."

"Don't try to. I had a hard time understanding it too."

"There's something else I want to ask," said Anne, leading Hermione to the sofa to sit down. "No, not anything about the future."

"Ask away."

"Firstly is it true what Ginny said about you making yourself ill, knowing about my death?"

"Yes, partly, at least."

"Why? It happened nearly one hundred and seventy years ago from here."

"I think it's because I see myself in you a bit. Intelligent, accused of being odd and not conventional about many things, and you have such vibrancy and positivity and..."

"This is the 'ooze' bit again, isn't it?" Anne interjected, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Yes," Hermione laughed. "You ooze plenty of things. Anyway, I was just a bit torn that all of that was...gone, too soon."

"I think we covered that earlier. I don't want you to be sad for me, for the things lost by death, embrace the things I did while alive. If there is any part of our short days of acquaintance that stand out to you for good reasons, other than our dalliance, then think on that. Don't mourn the things that can't be changed." Anne put her hand to Hermione's cheek, to get her to look directly at her. "I know you will be sad, as I will be on leaving you and Ginny and leaving Ann. But, there are so many good things to remember. You'll try, yes?"

Hermione nodded, feeling a bit emotional already. Ginny walked in and and set down her bakery bag. "Everything okay? Ron left?"

"Yeah," said Hermione, swallowing hard.

Ginny looked at her. "Hey, what's wrong."

"It's my fault," said Anne. That made Ginny looked at her confused.

"No," said Hermione. "It's mine."

"Okay, so synchronized blame established, what's the cause?"

"I asked her if she had really been ill because of knowing about my death," said Anne, softly.

"Oh," said Ginny, she got hold of one of Hermione's hands. "Yes, she has always been very down about that. Hey, let's eat, everything seems better with food."

"Spoken like a true Weasley," said Hermione, as Ginny kissed her forehead and they went to the table.

In no time Ginny had set out her purchases on some plates. "I got some cakes and cheese scones...sweet or savoury or both, whatever you want."

As they began to settle at the table with Hermione getting them some drinks, she said to Anne, "Was there anything else you wanted to ask?"

"If it won't make you too sad, there is another question I would ask following on from the first," their guest ventured. Hermione nodded ascent.

"If my death caused you so much pain recently and it isn't long from my return, back there, why bring me here. No, not just whim and curiosity, because I don't believe that's all there is, can you tell me?"

"I wanted to thank you," said Hermione.

"Thank me?"

"You helped me; what we spoke about the other night – but it was a lot more than you know," the brunette confessed. "I had begun to get symptoms again, as you saw...nervous attacks, after years with none. Talking with you...it made things so clear and obvious about what was happening and what I was to do and that I _could _cope with it again and beat it and trust myself again. You helped me to see how simple things were and how I could start to get order back in my life."

"I wasn't aware of that."

"No, but talking to you helped."

Anne looked warily to Ginny, but the redhead put her hand up. "Don't worry, I thank you too. Sometimes it needs someone outside to help make things clearer. I don't begrudge that at all."

"In that case, I'm pleased I could help you," Anne smiled, taking a sip of water.

"I knew you'd be interested in life here, however baffling it would seem and I wanted to give that chance to you. And at a time when you were not at so much risk, or pressures of life," Hermione said.

"Then I thank you both for that," said Anne. "And for helping me with Ann."

"I wasn't aware that I did? Or we did?"

"What you said in 1832, and the other night, about what were weaknesses and what were not and how you coped with your anxiety. Unfortunately, as you know, Ann has it more severely, though I suspect it's her upbringing and lack of society that is the cause of most of it. As you also know, I have had my patience tried more times than I care to count, and times when I thought that we would part and even now...well, I know that we don't part in that way, now, but I employed that patience and perseverance to my limits, because of how you spoke about such things and what I now know were warnings to be prepared. Eight years we have had, six with her living at Shibden and travelling with me. It's more than some people get."

"It has been so difficult to know and not say anything," said Hermione. "All we could do was hint."

"Well," said Anne, wistfully. "I intend to enjoy what is left and make the most of a bad job. Ann has enjoyed several parts of our travel, even, dare I say, better than me, especially when she's on horseback, something I was never completely comfortable with, but there it is."

"It's a shame we had to keep so much from you," said Ginny.

"It was for the right reasons," said Anne. "And it's irrelevant, now."

"Yes, as long as..." began Hermione.

"...I won't write anything down, nor tell anyone," said Anne, grinning. "I understand the protocol over that, by now."

"I admit we did check a few books when we got back to make sure nothing had been revealed wrongly. All clear," said Hermione, then she looked sheepish. "It's not that we didn't trust you, but so much happened, that sometimes things slip out, and maybe not from you; there were others that could have said a wrong word here or there."

"No offence taken," said Anne. She was about to say something else, then stopped and caught herself, but not before making a small audible sigh.

Hermione noticed it, though. "What is it?"

"Only something that would break a promise I made a short time ago," replied Anne.

"Something about the future? Your future?" Ginny asked this, watching carefully.

"Not about now, or perhaps not that distant, it's just a thought, as I won't get back to Shibden, or England again."

"Ask," said Hermione. "We can always say we can't tell you."

"All right," Anne nodded. "You may not even know the answer, but you seemed to have known a bit about me, and my life, however fragmentary. Have you ever read, or heard, anything about a Mariana Belcombe or Mariana Lawton?"

"Yes," replied Hermione. "What do you want to know?"

"Rather obvious, I suppose, only what happens to her? Do you know? What happens to her after this time, after 1840?"

"I've never researched her in much depth," answered Hermione, truthfully. "However, I did do some minimal work to find out about her. You want to know when she dies?" Anne nodded. "She died in 1868, aged seventy-eight."

"And her husband? Do you know anything about him?" Anne said in a quiet voice, hardly daring to voice the name of the man she had loathed for a lot of her life.

"He died in 1860, I think," Hermione said.

Anne laughed, and it was with genuine humour. "Oh Lord, my dear Mariana!" she laughed again, then looked at the slightly worried glances from her hosts. "She always said that, once he died she would come to me. Not that I would feel that way now, it is beyond repairing, but poor girl, the old man outlives me by twenty years. There is something beautifully ironic in that. We were always waiting for _his_ death, and _I_ go first."

"I know no other details, really, I don't think they had children," added Hermione.

"Well thank goodness for that." Anne's smile dropped. "I very much appreciate your answering my questions."

"There's no harm in that..." said Hermione before she was cut off by her wife.

"...unless you write to her before you die, and tell her she has another twenty years with him!"

Waving a hand Anne replied, "No fear about that. I have kept my word about that, and always will."

They talked further and the time passed and when it reached six o'clock, they made their way upstairs. Anne freshened up in the bathroom and then they treated Anne to some more magic, by changing her back into the clothes she had arrived to 2008 in, with a flick of a wand, and then stood looking at one another.

"This is it," said Hermione. "Time to go back. And...I hate it! I hate Ron...I hate..."

"Steady on," said Anne. "While that strange young man I met, did indeed seem irritating to the extreme, I don't feel that any of our current predicament is his fault."

"This is of _our_ making, Hermione," said Ginny. "We always said Anne would have to go back today."

"I know," answered Hermione, gesticulating with her hands more than she normally would. "I know. Just venting...something...and it might as well be aimed at him."

Anne walked over to them. "Meeting you and then coming here has been a highlight in my life and I'll think of it often over the next few weeks."

"We might not have much time, when we step back at the monastery," said Ginny. "So perhaps it's best to say our goodbyes here, properly. And..." Ginny walked to the bedroom door. "I'm going to give you a few minutes."

"What?" said Hermione, but Ginny only gave a smile as she left the room.

"She is a remarkable woman," said Anne, amazed again at the redhead's forethought and acquiescence to those thoughts, thinking only of her wife.

"I know," Hermione sighed.

"There are some things I would say," Anne began. "Don't make yourself ill again over a job or career. Do something you actually love, not which you found by accident, or which found you in the same way. Do something that will make you truly happy, not depressed and gloomy, however absorbed you are. I always want to think of you as happy."

"I have considered taking a break and perhaps writing a book or two," said Hermione.

"Do it," said Anne adamantly. "I always wanted to write a book, never really got around to it, other than those travel notes you found, which were obviously not in any polished state for publication."

"I think I will," said Hermione. "It means I'm floating around undecided again, but a book seems the most attractive option."

Anne brought her hand to Hermione's cheek. "You'll be good at anything you do, but never compromise your health or happiness. Not now."

"I'll try. I don't know what my own future will hold, but yes, I'll try to keep to that promise for you."

"Then there is this." Anne moved her hand to slide a ring off her right index finger. It was a silver band set with a black stone which glittered. "I had this made not long after you left in 1832 and I've worn it since. It's time I gave it back to you. The stone is the black diamond you gave me, the ring I had made was for me, so I give you back something of me."

Hermione felt it in her hand and looked at it. It was exquisite. She could feel a lump in her throat. "Don't you want to keep it with you?"

"Not now. Not now I know. I don't want it to end up in anyone else's possession," explained Anne curling Hermione's hand around it, to make sure she kept the ring. "It is a part of you, and of Ginny and a part of me, for our time together."

"You've worn this all those years?"

"Yes. A part of me always wanted to keep a little part of you. That little part that will always love you," said Anne, her voice husky and tight from trying to hold back emotion.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Anne Lister and their lips connected; a soft, slow and almost painful kiss, but ultimately chaste, of what was, what could have been and what was to come. As their lips parted Hermione held onto the other woman and whispered. "I love Ginny with my whole heart, but there is still a little piece of me that will always love you, Anne."

She felt the arms tighten around her. A few moments later they stood back, wiping stray tears.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to speak to Ginny alone too," requested Anne.

Opening the door, Hermione walked along the landing to their room and found Ginny sitting on their bed, who looked up when her wife walked in. "All done?"

"Not quite, she wants to talk to you, alone."

"Me?"

"That's what she said."

A bemused Ginny left, and Hermione sat on their bed to wait, her curiosity only matched by her sense of honour, about not intruding on her wife and Anne; she also knew she could ask about it later.

"You wanted to see me," said Ginny, as she walked into the bedroom Anne had been using.

"Yes." Anne moved forward and held both of Ginny's hands, surprising the redhead. "I can't describe what you've done for me. Generosity of spirit and other things. I know I don't even have to say it, but look after Hermione. Cherish every moment you have with her. You have a special bond and never let anyone break what you have. Promise me."

"That is an easy promise to make. You have my word on that." Ginny said without hesitation.

"Look after her, after we all part. Look after each other. I don't want her worrying herself and getting into a ghastly mess over this. She has to understand that knowing you are both happy and together is my ultimate wish for you."

"I'll look after her. We've always looked after each other. I hated to see her lately, getting so down about things, but she's very hard to steer away from a project when she's so consumed by it."

"I've told her this, but you also tell her that, my wish is for her to be happy and not sad over any part of this. Be glad of what we've all had and move on better for it."

Ginny nodded. "Again, an easy promise to keep. I will do my best to help her."

"There is one final thing I want to put right, though it opens me up to yet another scrape I might find myself in, even at this stage," Anne gave her quirky smile.

"I'm listening," said Ginny, eager to hear what this thing might be, or if it was something else that would need covering up.

"We're friends, aren't we?" Anne asked and when the redhead nodded readily she continued. "It would seem that you think I prefer Hermione and that she is the one I most gravitated to."

"That's a fair assumption," agreed Ginny.

"While that's true and she and I do meet on the same level, except when she's swearing with invented words, I need to be honest about you." Anne saw Ginny's face take on a perplexed defensive expression. "No, this isn't bad, I'm not about to insult you, my dear woman."

"Okay."

"The thing is – and it's hard for me to say this – but you scare me a little. Well, maybe not _scare_, and it's not quite intimidate, but I feel less." Anne put up a hand to quieten any protest Ginny was going to make, to let her continue. "You are just as intelligent as Hermione, we are on the same level too, within a little, and I find you incredibly attractive, and it mystifies me a little. I know on some level you...you allowed Hermione and I to be connected, and I apologize for having taken that offer. But it wasn't just opportunity and desire it was also because I knew I couldn't compete with you. Hermione will always be yours and you to her also. Whatever I did wasn't going to unbalance that, and that made me think that it was maybe why you allowed it, you didn't fear me as a true competitor for your wife's affections...I..."

"I _am_ going to stop you there," said Ginny. "Listen, and listen well. I knew you were no threat to Hermione. You weren't going to hurt her, but you were also a part of her, quite a while before we even met and she'd found you in her research for the area. She wasn't sleeping with a ghost, exactly, but you couldn't harm us, and wouldn't. I somehow knew that from very early on. You are always going to be a part of her life and her heart, and I'm completely fine with that. You are also a part of mine. What you've done to help her and also for you just being you. A little piece of me will always love you too. And...and I've always liked the look of you...and been attracted to you. There, the cat is out of the bag."

Anne swallowed hard and was silent for a while. "Really?!"

"You know enough about us to know if we're keeping something back or not."

Studying Ginny, Anne could see that she looked vulnerable and a bit embarrassed and how a person looked when they had divulged a deep secret or spoken an honesty that had previously been hidden.

"I thought you were _exactly_ like me to begin with and I've been confused ever since. I don't know what the term is here, but they call women like me 'Jacks' or 'Toms'. I assumed you were too; playing sports, being a woman of action...although Hermione is fairly equal on action when it's required."

"I'm not really a 'type'," said Ginny, amused now. "I'm just me, who happens to have found a soul mate in Hermione and since then, yes, I've liked the look of other women purely because I am of that persuasion; you notice more when you are part of something like that. I think all kinds of women are attractive. History would tell us that you were masculine, but you know, you're nowhere near what we expected. There are plenty of women now that look more like men, yet whom are married to men, happily. Gender dressing and personalities are more fluid here. But I have to say a well dressed woman like you does get the heart beating a little faster, and the imagination. Possibly apart from some very butch ends of the spectrum, we all dream of a woman like you coming into our lives and whisking us off our feet...maybe undressing us...and...well, I don't need to draw diagrams."

Anne was utterly engrossed in what Ginny was saying, and with little thought walked forwards and pressed her lips to the redhead's; slow and questing, until they pulled back, a little stunned with each other.

"That's definitely put things right," said Ginny, with a lopsided grin.

"That's for you and for me. A little piece that loves you too," Anne said, deadly serious.

"In a short time, since we first met, I've grown to love and admire the woman you are," said Ginny.

They embraced again, then broke apart. "We'd better go," said Anne. "I don't want that brother of yours dropping in again."

"Me neither," said Ginny.

"I still find it hard that Hermione ever considered anything near commitment with him?!"

"I'd been telling her that all along!" Ginny laughed and went to the door and called Hermione.

Resignedly and with few words, Hermione put the Time Turner chain around their necks and got them both to hold onto her as she pointed her wand at it and stated the time and place. After several uncomfortable moments they landed on the spot they had left from before at the monastery in Georgia, with the heat beating down.

"One more quick question," said Anne, and seeing her friend nod, "In your research did you ever find any of my family with magical heritage?"

"No," said Hermione. "Sadly not. You don't need magic, Anne. You weave your own magic all by yourself."

"Flatterer!" Anne exclaimed with humour. "Well my friends, I must go back down and find Ann, before she comes looking for me. The sight of you two would probably sour things for days. Be brave, be true," she added, as she embraced Hermione and then Ginny. And as she walked away from them, she turned and said "Above all, ooze positivity!" She waved and was out of sight around the monastery wall and on her way down the slope.

The two witches were smiling and sad at the same time. With a last wistful look around from where they stood, as she was then out of sight, they went back to the house in London.

"What did she say to you?" asked Hermione, when they got back..

"It was more a confession," said Ginny, sheepishly. "That we both loved each other too. Similar to how it is with you. Only she was intimidated by me and thought I might be too butch underneath, or something. I think it got her gaydar screwy from the moment she first met us, thinking she suddenly liked butch women! Then, realizing I wasn't, and we both found the other attractive, she kissed me...a proper kiss."

"Whew! She does put it about a bit, doesn't she?" said Hermione amused. "I always knew you couldn't resist her, really."

"That obvious?"

"Yup."

They sought out Ron a little later, as they had promised, and gave a full account of what they had done and every place and thing they had encountered over the last three days.

"You'll be wanting us to visit Kingsley," Hermione said, not really asking a question and assuming the answer.

"No," said Ron.

"No?" Ginny questioned. "We must have broken lots of laws, and..."

"It's his directive," said Ron. "He wants all the details, but this report will be kept unofficially."

"So why all the drama?"

"I wanted to see what she was like," the red-haired man answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What?" Hermione nearly squeaked.

"I heard so much about her from before, I was intrigued. So I offered to check things out, rather than from a distance, which Kingsley had advised when he heard about what Jane had saw. Then you made me leave the station in Halifax so this was the only way. I _was_ keeping an eye on things too, but I was curious. And, bloody hell, does she look at everyone new like that?"

"Yeah, it's not just you," said an amused Ginny.

"She sent my mind back to a time Harry and me were under his cloak and Dumbledore saw right through it. Urgh...creepy!" Ron admitted. "And I really don't get why she had women falling over themselves to sweat in her shadow."

"Well, you'd never understand _that_," muttered Ginny.

"So we're not being arrested or charged with anything?" asked Hermione.

"No," Ron then saw the expectant looks he got. "I think Kingsley was interested in the experiment. He was prepared if things went wrong, but if anything he's even more convinced that the Time-Turners are in the right hands."

"Shit, he doesn't have some kind of plan for something else, does he?" asked a wary Ginny.

"Not that I know of," Ron replied. "You have to know, though, if anything ever kicks off, that you two will be the first on the list to go?"

"I suppose we should expect that," Hermione nodded.

Later that night as the two witches lay close together, physically and mentally exhausted Ginny asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I miss her," admitted Hermione. "But she's made it easier. Yes, I'm still sad knowing the ending, but I feel compelled to be how she asked. Be positive and glad that we met her."

"She's always going to be a part of us," said Ginny, kissing Hermione's cheek. "She's going to be that peculiar third person in our marriage that neither of us minds being there."

Hermione chuckled. "There's no way we could explain that to anyone."

"And we won't have to. She's our business and our secret."

"I'm going to do something else she wanted me to," said Hermione, giving a little yawn. "When I'm finished on the ancestral project, I'm going to sit back a little while and start writing a book, or maybe two."

"What subject?" asked Ginny.

"That's the thing. It could be practical magic, teaching manuals either for Hogwarts or the Ministry or it could be fiction about time-travelling. I have the title for any of those."

"Which is?"

"Echoes of the Past."

"I'd buy it," said Ginny sleepily.

"You wouldn't have to, we'd be sent copies from the publisher."

"Ohhh, we've got as far as a publisher?"

Hermione mock slapped her. "In time, hopefully."

"Is that another title? 'In Time, Hopefully?" Ginny asked.

"Now, that's a possibility," said Hermione, with a laugh.

"There and Back Again, by Hermione Baggins," said Ginny.

Hermione snorted with laughter. "I still think 'Anne Lister: My Life as a Cornish Pixie' could be ground-breaking for the lesbian community."

"We need to..."

"Sleep? Yeah," said Hermione resignedly, realizing they were talking rubbish. "There's just one more thing I need to do."

Ginny watched as Hermione got her phone, and with her wand, she made a copy of the selfie she had taken of the three of them in 1832, and finally transferred it to a frame, to the magical paper within. She then placed it on their dressing table.

"Yup, she's definitely the third person in our marriage," said Ginny.

"Well, you'll get another tick on your list," said Hermione.

"What?"

"Letting her watch...you know..."

Ginny laughed and then the pair of them shared a soft kissed and settled to a calm, dreamless sleep.

XXXXXXXXXX

Back down the slope at the monastery site, Anne was looking at the sketches Ann Walker had been doing.

"Where's your ring?" Ann asked suddenly.

"My ring?" Anne Lister asked vaguely.

"The one you've always worn, with the black stone? I've never seen you without it."

"Oh, that one. I..." she paused, thinking of a good excuse. "There was a little altar up there, where offerings were made. I left it there, to symbolize our visit."

"I really ought to leave something, too."

"No need, it's enough for us both. I said a little prayer for the both of us," Anne lied, although technically she was praying right at that moment. "Besides, we don't want to throw around too much jewellery or money. It didn't have great monetary value, anyway."

"I suppose," Ann thought and immediately moved on. "So which sketch do you like best?"

"This one has great composition," Anne said pointing to one of the sketches, while secretly saying a prayer for her two friends in 2008. _God speed my friends, until we meet again in a better place. I'll be waiting..._

Finis

**A/N: Thanks for reading this piece of 'inadequate crapness'. It's one of my own small snapshots on Anne Lister and the possibilities, and only just scratching the surface of the wealth of things about that fascinating woman and her fascinating life. :) Were women swooning all over her? More or less, for most of her life, and certainly with flirting and suggestion. There was definitely something about Anne that other people locked onto. So I wanted to show a little of the magnetism and put in the 'strange' and strong reactions she provoked from both Ginny and Hermione; something that was just the Anne Lister factor. I also wanted to show the magnetism of Hermione and Ginny to Anne, because they would definitely meet on the same intellectual level.**

**I pushed a few little facts around to fit, as I'm not certain Anne's gravestone fragments were on display in 2008 and if it was a couple of years too early, nor if her likely burial placement had been surmised as in the north aisle(not far from her aunt and father) by that point, so I left it vague for here and not pinpoint accurate. **

**I could have played with a 'feeling' Anne knew where she was buried, but it wouldn't have added anything and been an extended tangent while turning her into a kind of sniffer dog. As one body is alive and the other is dead, could there be a connection felt? Or does visiting your own grave alive, mean you're not actually buried in that place at the moment you're visiting it? Too many tangled possibilities...if you think too much about it. :) **

**The ring was always in this story as just an object, but then the Gentleman Jack series showed Anne wearing a black-stoned ring(of which I have a lovely replica from the jeweller that worked on the show) and I couldn't not twist it a bit more for the story.**

**This could have been much longer, more intricate, more everything, but it's one of my thinking-out-loud things, and I decided to share it. **


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